Your horn blows

A fiery golden sunset,

A sweet melancholy shower

Of slow dances

Stretched out over previously forgotten eternities.

Your horn blows

A cluster of small school children

Breaking free at the recess bell,

A chorus of “I’m frees”

Spilling out like mercury from their mouths

And scattering like billiards towards the spirit of play.

Your horn blows

a first kiss,

Clinging to the web of memory

Like the jeweled droplets of a soft rain

Or quietly collected morning dew.

Your horn blows

The joyous writhing colors of carnival

Plumage and powder,

Booming with power

and blooming like flowers with human limbs,

Dark and sparkling.

-ZG Daniel

10/17/14