Evening arrives the way it always does,
Shoves the door open
Amidst suspended apartment dust,
Drifts through my bedroom window
With news of comets
Transporting space messages
From eons away.
I hear the neighbours yell and argue,
And pretend they’re croaking toads
Professing love to potential mates
Instead of animosity,
Or variants of hate.
The hum of the traffic below
Transforms into cricket lullabies,
Evaporates from concrete swamps
That rarely run dry.
I try not to dream
Of babbling brooks
And rolling hills.
I try to stay present,
Shove the pangs of discontent from my chest,
Lie to make today more bearable,
Lie to get closer to tomorrow
Where perhaps I’ll travel
To seasides and coasts,
Envelope myself in their salty wind embraces.
With my arms buried in wool,
And my heart fortified with stone
To firefly coves
Far away from city lights
To make me believe
In all I’ve lost
Before I slip
Back into compact homes
Boasting more gold than fire,
Allow the sleepless night below
To sing me to sleep.