New York LindseyFading Spokane
as it creeps in along
grooved streets between buildings;
sun so low and far behind those
western hills. Filth coated alleys
give in to encroaching dark.
Sounds of trains start to mean.
But cars move as if it were daylight, as if
it were not time to vacate a downtown
half alive even when full.
Everything is turning grayer.
And like a life, when he is 80 and remembering
the lows of his existence,
all he can do is repent.