Going Gone

Her power like basalt in stony stacks.

When she stretches out her arms your lungs relax.

Who rocks the sea to sleep forwards and back?

And what angel is she who turns it black?

Golden and glowing till the dawn,

Twilight in layers on the lawn,

Full of a strange and shaking song,

And the cities are going going gone.

She fills the deep ravines with icy foam,

Mountains host her court within their domes.

The stars line up to fill the coming gloam,

But what angel is this who sent them home?

Golden and glowing till the dawn,

Twilight in layers on the lawn,

Sky full of quaking summer songs,

And the darkness is going going gone.