The in-between of dusk and
night releases half shadows.
Clouds hurry to corners. The last
breeze twists a single sheet on a
clothesline. A voice familiar to back
doors slips into a cracked plaster
hallway. Billboards advertise last
year’s circus. Resilient pillars of
weeds claim an abandoned lot. A dog
with strong eyes challenges the weak.
A warm storm approaches. Thunder
announces the orchestra of heaven. The
earth is its anvil of revenge.
Roger Singer 