The July evening after the rain
Is bathed in a blue incandescence
Before the lingering light gives way
To the relative darkness of the city night
The imminent death of another day
That will never come back but leave us
Another step closer to our last day or night
Cannot be looked at without a sense of loss.
When was time our ally that we ever went
To sleep, looking forward to the next day
When our hungers were sure to be sated
And we would take a step closer to the dream
That we told no one lest it did not come true?
