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Elegy for a Day
Long shadows mark the march
of light to dark, the end
of one moment after another.
The clang of the morning alarm
is a memory, as is the trudge to work
and the sludge of coffee in the middle of the day.
The hours grind, fade into the past—
even this evening is gone with the
cooking and washing up I complete alone.
What remains is the same tomorrow.
Yet, in the lengthening light,
a snatch of Ravel slips into my ear.
I step outside and the late roses, falling
off the bloom, assail my nostrils, and the sunset –
oh, the deep sunset – blazes.