It's getting late in the day

Silence lingers heavily here
Where gleaming fingertips
Dig into scarred horizons
Running red with the light of a dying sun

Open-air hallways full of empty windows
Reflect what is left of the day
Into the faces of passersby

The only warmth they will find here

Eyes without faces march in lines
Parallel to uneven streets leading them
To places where illumination
Is only a figment of the imagination

©KNL