One of the last beautiful days. Blue sky still in the morning. Lone cricket playing his lonely tune. That neglected atmosphere of September. Ragged end of summer. Fall coloring slender trees whispering in an ocean of concrete. A single piercing of Venus across that vast unrolling cloudless day break reflected as a seamless horizon in the panes of a faded store front. Rattle of plastic and metal leaves undisturbed the cool reach of a breeze along outstretched fingers. A transformation in undertones. Indistinct. Only by illusion made one or the other. Only brief as we must see all things as brief. A fool's fortune made by civil twilight. All alone here and glad to be.
September 19, 2023
