Day and Night

Light dances off the dusty window sill,

in tune to the sound of birds,

and the swaying of mangroves.

Rays illuminate in the dusty room,

projecting beams of sparkling fury.

The blue eye girl stirs, to the sound of light.

Dank and desolate the room is,

shadows creeping, sounds weeping.

Dust settles on the floor, even the birds are quiet.

All that astirs is the chirping and croaking of insects.

The brown eyed boy lies in bed,

covers over his brows,

trembling at the slightest sound.