John Grey is an Australian born poet, works as financial systems analyst. Recently published in Bryant Poetry Review, Tribeca Poetry Review and the horror anthology, What Fears Becomewith work upcoming in Potomac Review, Hurricane Review and Osiris.
He's racing the sun
for the rights to disappear first
over that hill.
Sure ol' Sol has him
in the grandeur stakes,
great fiery ball roasting the dusk
orange red and yellow.
And he’s just a broom whisk
from here, wheels and skinny back
all of a one.
But that sun sure takes its time leaving
while he pedals faster than knitting fingers
and I feel his speed
in the velocity of his shrinking.
He's at the highest point
while the day's still rolling out
its glowing goodbyes.
Then down he dips,
is gone in an instant,
like the speed of light
when the light's not watching.