You just can't please some people. Here we go again.

Beneath the dim glow

between night and day,

before the storm,

the lioness retreated

to the creekside wood.

He turned from the reptilian

altostratus in the high, blue east

to the storm-laden west

and blinked:

A flash of coral pink

on rock, tree, and meadow

that somehow

spared the sky?

Whipped around in surprise;

high clouds catching fire

over the east, somehow

casting deeper shadow on the land,

and towering over the west:

a narrow arch of refracted light

glowing in the final moment of night

like an answer.