She's sitting there all pretty,
but I feel nothing, not a stir.
Shift closer in my chair
tossing conversations at her.
She throws them politly back
unsure.
Perhaps hoping for a spark,
a connection.
I gaze into her eyes at evening light's reflection
sparkling brightly as a dew drop glistening in the morning sun.
She's unaware of my distraction.
She got it wrong.
I notice a shy smile glow and resonate.
Her pupils dialate.
Unintentionally I've led her on.
Feeling a little guilty, I remember the evening's not just for me.
I cut the tethers of care to see
what our bodies will do.

We all have a place
that we keep
(just in case)
our hord
or our stash
our clutter.

Things that had purpose
or by some chance
may be used again.
Oddities and nic nacks
Old candles and keys
obsolete rechargers and batteries
cables and thimbles,
coins of foreign currencies
manuals and letters and lint.

And they are stored
in shoeboxes,
beer crates
bottom drawers
wardrobes,
on garage shelves
or in hearts.

Night rests now you have arisen
broken free from slumber's prison.
So many chores must be done
awaken birds
hold up the sun.
Paint new colours
give time a fresh life.
Prepare opportunities
for creatures and people to strive.
Good morning dear day

Birds are singing a cappella
a lullaby
for your wilting light.
Drowsy flowers drooping
to doze
safely in petal folds.
Yawning colours are waning soft
in twlight's faded hue.
Night will come soon
to watch over you.
Sleep well my dear day.

Wonder I sadly
the wish of the sun
for a shadow or
somewhere dark enough
to dream.