The Light of Day Approaching

Daylight

The fog burns away, faces turn up in gladness

Lean into the warmth

Hands dry and cold and scooping

Sand, imbued with the heat of the fiery sky

Slipping through your fingers

Each grain a moment, a moment in the hourglass of life

Ticking onward

Ticking

Press your palm against

Lukewarm steel and feel the tick

Quiet, a clock in a box in a warehouse

Industrial overheads and porch lights swinging

Humming, flickering, buzzing in the evening air

Evening

Shadows stretch to half-light stretch to darkness

Moonlit blue-grey waters and you

Drag your hand through the coolness of it

Pooling in the curl of your fingers

Rippling, swirling, distorting light and

Minutes spent looking up to the sky

A clean pale reflection of daylight approaching

The light of day approaching

Daylight