You can sense the day winding down before the sun even makes its way west. The streets become progressively quieter as the school kids head back home for dinner and homework. The birds who sang from early in the morning seemed to have gone to sleep for the night and the volume of the sounds from the F train five blocks down, has increased with the time. 

     The sun makes its away above the houses across the way – on the westside of the road and is blasting its furnace for one last burst of heat. Suddenly as the sun quickly drops out of sight, behind the houses and trees – the air becomes cooler and the light becomes dim. 

     The streetlights are still off – it wont be completely dark for an hour or so and the park is still sprinkled with working moms, just home, pushing their kids on the swings. 

     The clouds are shades of multiple colors – orange, red and yellow – reflecting off the trees creating a sense of a fire upon the leaves. A squirrel hurries by and another follows – seemingly playing tag. 

     The sky has turned blue, a breeze has begun and the streetlights have flickered on. Another day has ended but the night is still young. I sit here on my stoop and colors, images and recollections surround me…tapping me on my shoulder, gently touching my heart with a soft kiss and caressing my mind with thoughts of how life once existed. Friends who have moved on, former friends, old friends and errors in judgments. 

     But I remember those times, at this exact time of the day when we tried to extend the daylight for just another minute – to hold on to the present before it would become the past. To hold on to each other because we somehow, innately knew, we could not go back there again. 

     The sounds of mother’s voices calling out to their children to come home – a lost ball in the air – lost in the dark only to land just behind the fence. A homerun. The mother’s voices, coming from a window somewhere – “Come home.” Those voices we once dreaded, the end of days we once tried to ignore – always ended. The evening and then the night – young and alive to spent asleep and in dreams. 

     Just before the dawn – birds begin to sign as if hyped up on Turkish coffee, the sound of newspapers landing on the floors as the delivery cars drive away. The dark sky begins to illuminate as if a dim switch is slowly turning – a new day. 

 

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