Evening Sun

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Elegy for a Day

Long shadows mark the march

of light to dark, the end

of one moment after another.


The clang of the morning alarm

is a memory, as is the trudge to work

and the sludge of coffee in the middle of the day.


The hours grind, fade into the past—

even this evening is gone with the

cooking and washing up I complete alone.


What remains is the same tomorrow.

Yet, in the lengthening light,

a snatch of Ravel slips into my ear.


I step outside and the late roses, falling

off the bloom, assail my nostrils, and the sunset –

oh, the deep sunset – blazes.

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