Residue of the day
By dribble
Residue of the day lingers in the sleepy shadows that dance upon musty curtains and clogged gutters. The silky evening invades, seducing the sky in thick color and sweet coolness. Gently pushing the day into the precious and harmless confines of nostalgia. Street lamps light up as lovers at the touch of velvety darkness caressing cool metal. -The thrill of twilight- Footsteps quicken down narrow walkways deadlines, deadlines home by dark Universal thought drift through the throng of interchangeable faces with interchangeable dreams. Deep drowning clouds or limitless crystal expanses marred by stars and pollution. The sky is constantly performing constantly neglected by the far-thinking planners scuttling around, far below. Stepping over the clogged gutters glistening in the deepening obscurity of dusk. And still the nameless masses drift by unaware of the residue of the day that clings to their shoes, and handbags, but never to their faces. Written October 4th, 2001 © on Oct 04 2001 05:26 AM PST 0 • 9
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"Residue of the day..."