Two Poles

The sun blisters me
but I care not
For I am running.
Running, soaring,
hurrying
into longer days.
The night is a myth
the day
spins its web of mania.

I breathe

Night falls
Its cold grasp tightens
barring out the sun
turning days into melancholy.
I lay
down and alone
The dawn was a dream
that drifted slowly
into smoky air

And I had come undone.