Day 10, NaPoWriMo

Tonight on the drive home,
a chiffon bit of fiery cloud
hung so close to the road
an escapee from the bank of
golden and steel blue
at the edge of the world –
Seemed like impossible magic
and it was, impossibly, gone
when the west reappeared
at the next open field.
At the next, the world darkened
and at the next
only the dark trees
made the sky light.