Dusk
Town was buzzing
the band was playing
people everywhere smiling
it was good to see
The only dead-pan looks
on the faces
From the homeless
and the Jehovah’s Witnesses
I watched the people go by
from the comfort of the cafe
my camomile tea
my only companion
No rush to leave
I go about my day
in complete silence
my eyes grew heavy
I need sleep
I need to switch off
I need to think about
nothing for a while
Prose pours from me
but not my novel
I have lost my voice
A light within has gone
Lost its brightness
Perhaps I will never recover
it is comparable to dusk
a life lived in dusk
Mark Lyth 