A Pencil of Light

What is there
Underneath the hill
That rolls and grows
Into peaks and paces slow
The stove was left on
But the gas bill
Takes no space in my mind
No need to dwell and waste the time
When we drew it out
Of the extra bedroom
The extra seat at the table

First thing in the morning
Sunrise synonym
Drinking away the farm
Choking on the topsoil
Badland and tussock slope
85 to the beautiful fork
Draining the earthen dam
Punches at a big, wide sky are
What I swing to keep alive

So when the blaze borne
Of a hundred relentless and returning suns
Hits the houses on the plain
And the vistas afar off
It’ll brand everything that it touches
It burns beyond the degrees that I once knew
Just like how I was warned that it would
I was happy to sit here
And let the anticipation consume me
Before I even had just a little taste