I linger in
hungry shadows
as the sun descends,

waiting for the end
of daylight
and for a
whole new world
to begin again.

Against all odds
I am making ends meet.
I am reasonably
happy,
but this daylight life
is not really my thing.

Some say the way
I stray from the sun rays
is a weakness,
but I did not seek this
evening loving disposition.

It is just that
the night
is a quiet and
generously
gentle and reflective
lover,

and though I may
someday love another,
for now, I long to smother
my anxiety,
and complexity
in the cool windy arms of
the brilliant
but bluish black
that always welcomes me back
after a harsh day’s journey.