Speaking softer now in a still lingering light
Measured in long peeks out the window,
Until the life of darkness
Resumes the ongoing day:
Slipping,
Stretching,
Into something else.

Some of us lost the light
Before we were even able
To sequester its sparkling splendor
In some imaginary pause.

I walked right past that bus!

That's how it grabbed me:
Before I could even catch up to it
And after it was long gone.

Now cardboard afternoons,
To box the passage of days,
And the frayed edges of old towels
Hanging stiff along a sagging clothesline:
Barely swinging back and forth.

Sam A. Flanagan