From Day Into Night

 

Trickling down from the dark blue

into wild violet

blending into passionate red

feeding into the oranges and yellows that are the last memory of

The sun.

 

I look at that moment happen every day as I take the long walk back to my apartment.

 

Men scream slurs and derogatory terms at me

a touch of loud radios

the screech of a motorcycle

That is the symphony.

 

Breathing in car fumes and softly cooking food, I walk. I think.

 

A cold customer, imagine of a cake in their face comes to mind.

I wonder what tomorrow brings.

Will I see you again? Will we really tango this time?

 

I walk from day into night as the sun makes its exit,

the moon takes its place –

sitting in its guard tower as

We walk mischievously through the shadows it cannot reach.

 

I walk through the night, hoping to see your face.

 

I walk through the night.

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Published by

Brenna Renée Prather

Costume Designer. Writer. Artist.

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