Shift Work

Her sickle blade was heading west,
before the sun arose,
up over clouds the daybreak stressed
in lavender pink flows.
 
At horologic speeds she flew
through the pinnacle sky
of icy stratospheric blue
where contrails...sparsely ply...
 
wove by jets at dawn's early light
to mingle with the beams
her crescent shed all through the night
on cold Morphean dreams.
 
And then she put her horns away
to fade into a ghost
beyond the crow cock solar ray...
when Phoebus came to host.