Twilight Time




It's twilight time and.......



I hear the rush of tired traffic,
Imagine cell phones crowding the air
"Do you want McDonald's or Taco Bell?"
"What do you mean Daddy's not coming home?"
"Gotta go - here comes the service road!"


And the smell of onions frying,
A jogger in shorts though it's about 33,
Her little Yorky trying valiantly to keep up,
They both pant.


There's the cream colored hole
In the deep gray clouds, a pink streak
Over the lake - 2 early sailboats in silhouette,
Lovers in a Deep Ellum bar speaking "office."


Macho men in baseball caps plopping
In a picked tapestry chair
With the first beer of the night,
And TV.


Smooth-handed boys and girls fondling laptops
In quiet cubicles and behind locked doors,
Catching up, while sweepers run, phones silence,
And windows twinkle.


Mama puts on a machine load,
Opens the burgers, quiets the young ones,
Maybe tomorrow she'll do mac and cheese,
Just not this weary night - there's homework.


And the moon hangs low
At Twilight Time.



By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)







 








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