Nightfall
Nightfall is a dream deferred.
Powder blue skies fade to blackblue.
Charcoal clouds roll over that beaming light
and blott it out,
replacing it with artificial yellow and orange sparkles
that diminish and die in the distance.
Tree shadows cover green grass and cracked concrete.
Lush branches are now spare twigs.
The wind is still; the air, shiver-cool.
Everything is black—eyes opened or closed.
Hope is dusk,
and optimism cold as midnight.
The sun sets on daydreams,
and the moon triggers nightmares.
~cdw
11.14.09
