nightfall

shadows stretch, longingly, 
         eastward,
to flee a malevolent, setting sun,
impossible though, 
pinioned to the ground
as they are, by our feet,
planted firmly to the concrete.

we speak of meaningless things,
while daytime spins to twilight,
carries us, piggyback,
into a pyrotechnic sunset
and star shower afterimages.

    i'm sinking

my voice rumbles,
a steam train on twisted tracks
to nowhere
     somewhere, 
anywhere has to be better
than this ill-at-ease limbo…
the perpetual tug and tarry
of our conversation.

i'd make a declaration to you,
but my confidence has 
outdistanced my shadow
into the diffuse nightline.

so i'll just watch,
as i normally do
while streetlights flicker to life
to delight light-starved moths,
house windows glow golden,
spill warmth into creeping dimness
of a catatonic street,
and smoke rises from chimneys,
wispy spires reach
higher than i can get
    apparently.

     i'm sunk

as you slowly turn away
allow greedy shadows to 
swallow you whole
in one giant suck of thick black
and my footsteps scuff
a well-known route
back to my empty home.


- jonah s fenn ca. 1996