Fin De Siècle
The sky streaks, white
with a plane in flight,
over red rivers flow of snaking light
built from cars on the motorway.
Dusty clouds seen
against a sky of dying green.
The sun's last grasp
lets loose some beams.
Birds blink and cuddle.
Leaves relax.
Flowers close and curl.
Slow breaths of mint-fresh wind
celebrate day to end,
and the night to begin.
The past turns in cycle.
The world is reset.
The slow blink is past,
like the jet.