one day, and the next.
October blew in with an audacity
seeking to shake the kids.
the winds and early darkness
took root and
took hold of the days
until everyone had lost themselves
somewhere between seasons
and promised to convene
once again on the
other side of the sun.
and as the masses fled, I watched
from a darkening window.
rummaged the hallway closet
for a jacket. dusk rushed in
as the door opened and I
faced a street as endless as
the planet’s rotation. and intention
as ambiguous as mine.
I walked and glanced upward
only periodically to stare on as the
evening hours extracted the colors
painted so meticulously
by the sun’s sweeping waves
on his slow rise
and descent.
half a mile and the flickering bulbs
of the streetlights struggled
to unwrap themselves from
the night’s veil. ahead, a couple
walking towards me. others, as
selfish as I and as disappointed as I
to find an inhabitant on this night,
walking towards me.
just shapes of the night
pressing on.
I slowed my cadence slightly
as to meet them under the glow
of the streetlight.
it seemed proper. and the night released
them from its tight grasp. a couple, together,
facing the wreckage. validating the remains.
my gaze latched onto the ambassadors
of night. his eyes sharp, cutting a path through twilight.
such anger in the subtleties
of his movement. and her,
eyes brimming with tears as the breeze whipped
at her collar. and they were carried on.
in the dying smolder of the lamplight I stopped.
only half a mile. and the morning still
had to make its rounds before
it fell upon
the western hemisphere. the steps
were numbered as were the hours
until the artist sat at easel
once again.
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