As the day mellows

The magic hour
starts at 6:30pm.

That’s when the evening breeze
awakens birds and crickets
and makes even the roar of traffic
sound as gentle
as cats purring across a windowsill.

It’s when the sky, relieved of
the glare of the afternoon sun,
becomes blue again,
a playground for clouds that drift
blissfully above envious treetops.

Then, streetlights come ablaze and compete
with the fading daylight, which,
not to be outdone,
retreats only to reveal
the glimmer of the first stars,
defiantly radiant over the urban twilight.

We sat in the yard,
drinking soju and talking
about tomorrow and all the days after.



- 9 March 2008