When the Night Weds the Sun

The valley calls it a day,
as it eats up the sun
like in a kid’s
crayon-coloured vista
of the world –
two-hills-and-sunset-with-
sometimes-a-river-from-the-valley.

I had pictured an early moon
when the sky darkened its face,
but the stars on the ceiling
were already in place.

I sigh through the nights,
unwillingly taking strides
with the clock hands
ticking on and on
until daybreak –
another day begins,
another dawn
for birds to rise.

But not for me;
For me, it is night
in a sparkling gown
of blinding white –
saying, “I do” with the sun.

The fireworks when the couple kiss
are their dreams and my pain –
I wait for the valley
to swallow the sun again.