A night has fallen.
It's thirteen minutes past six
in the evening. Black trees
stand against the darkest blue,
rapidly sinking.
People die at this time almost
as often as in the early morning -
or at late night, take your pick -
just before the dawn.
You get a call, and they are
gone, and just twenty minutes
earlier you were walking away from
their bed where they slept in a final,
troubled slumber, seeing a dream
they would never reveal.
27.02.2023
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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