How the evening comes... when the world is on fire

Sunset-

 

the people of my time

are passing away.

they die suddenly,

when the phone rings.

 

it was once need,

that came so thick

and fast, and then

first desires, and words.

 

now, it's this that and

the other and someone

is gone,

or on the brink.

 

we never thought

we would live forever,

(although we did)

and now it looks like we won't.

 

one of us is losing.

some of us don't know

why we went down

these stairs.

 

one of us likes to touch

their tip into something

steady. some of us

can't.

 

we have already thought

of the sympathies, the excuses...

brushed the loss of ourselves

ourselves

 

while at the same time

we are getting used to

so many leavings, scribbling

and scratching them down.

 

one of us thinks

the sun may shine one day

when we'll drink wine together

and think of what used to be.

 

some of us will remember

every single thing, recall

every word,

love every loss

 

until we will,

as we must,

leave it to others,

deeply and in silence.

Done