For a moment near dusk, the sky made a promise
that daylight would go on
for as long as the clouds had the will
to hold their position, fanned out as they were
in pink ripples across
the city’s outskirts and the desert
while against them each leaf
on the backyard tree was sharpened to a point.
But the moon soon had its way,
all silver sharpness
hooked into the dark.
What now: the question hangs
above us with a celestial sheen.
What now, when the shadows have reclaimed
their most sinister implications?
When the roads have lost their way
and headlights reach out to the horizons
for a place
to be safe for the night.