Fresh-cut lawn in a strange half-light. The time passes, pushed by cool breeze. Blue sky mellows, turns grey. Sleeps.
Moths fly on broken wings, and children play on the road. The sun refuses to set. It’s knees buckle, but it stands over Gideon. 8:53. 10:12
Sunset stains the denim canvas.
A faint rustle cracks the quiet.
Lights flicker on. Chatter rises and falls.
Sun and moon blur, bleed together.