Twilight temperament

My mother has a temperament of twilight.
All sweetness and laughter early
All cherry reds, banana yellows,  
Granny apple green.   
Her image a palette of primaries,
Sharp, undisturbed, bright. 

The shadow emerges when countered.
As sun grow bold, a voice calls the deep,
Strumming a symphony—
Shift minor key.

Even now we reminisce about the day she learned to ride her dusk. 
Darkness veiled her eyes,
A shuddering rage engulfed her as
She grappled with new power in 
Colours of fire, crimson and ruby and jade.
She learned to like it and to use it and to 
Dance to the heart of a wolf.

My mother has a temperament of twilight.
All current and sparks of late,
One more strength to share.