The Last of the Lights

Time changes more between 8:45 and 9:00 than at any other interval. This is where summer days turn to night. People become silhouettes, plans become action. Balloons marked FIESTA! are broken on rocks at the shore. Public radio opinions make it just outside the windows.

There is a party at the conservatory. People on the roof, donating for decent wine, fireflies camouflaged in their cigarettes. And all the while people run by me. How can they stand the energy? I have hardly any left and I'll be up for hours. The things I said today, I'll say them again tomorrow. I'll pretend they're new.

Fireflies and cigarettes. It's the changing of the guard. The sun getting split into a hundred million minions. First the planes, then the cars, then the boats outside the harbor. One by one everyone sits alone. But we can never allow ourselves to be in darkness. Everywhere you look there is tremendous light.