The Sun's Blood

As a sunset closes day,

The terrace speaks with dials.

It bleeds from a fray,

But runs with a jostle.

As the blood drips to a sill,

The second sun aches.

For clouds pulse water,

But a storm is only wine.

The terrace cuddles white

And the blood is coupled to air.

In its final stretch of care,

A sunset wraps its wrists.

Reviews

[Poeticsecrets16]

This is a deep poem. I like the personification on this. The use personification makes the imagery detailed and vivid and illuminates the idea that seeking beauty beyond nature will lead to sunset. Well done!