Hot as dragon breath
and tigers rage
the sun comes.
Scorching the sky.
The earth goes dry at the mouth
with her rage.
Rivers stop running.
Brighter and brighter she flares,
breathing boiling fire.
All hide from her viciousness,
wait in scarce shadow
until later, when she is
pulled over the horizon screaming,
lashing out, bruising all around her,
purples, pinks, yellows, blues.
Mistress of the sky,
commanded only by a placid moon.