At Dusk by Sylvia

at dusk

at dusk, i leave,
just as the lightning bugs arrive,
the warm glow of yellow lights
softly pulsing…
tapping out a unique version
of Morse code…
the white, billowy clouds
of a summer day,
lose dimension
and become shadowy silhouettes
pasted flatly against a twilight sky…
a yard ablaze
with colorful flowerbeds,
earlier awed over
and envied for their beauty,
recedes into the blossoming darkness
it was a day of laughter

and happy, smiling faces…

of chatter and camaraderie
and the ignorant bliss of childhood
then comes the leaving…
the driving away…
the honking of horns…
the waving of hands
and yelling of goodbyes
from a chorus of voices…
a steady stream of raw emotions
flows back and forth
between those who leave
and those who stay…
until the voices trail away
and the faces in the car windows
have long disappeared,
and this, another day,
has already found its place
in our memories
Sylvia L. Mattingly
July 30, 2020
8DF771CA-E98D-4AE2-AD78-8FEC3D6159B6
Photo by Mike

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