The slightest brush
of melancholy
tinges the evening:

that time of day
when ghosts awaken

and memories stir;

that time of day
when thousands
of lives lived
lean into now.

Where are you,
bright eyed lover?

I need a
gentle boost
to lift me above
this roar of silence,

this emptiness
that fills the
twilight.

Come to me.

Sing me songs
until smiles return
and we will smile
together.
   ~mce