As Night Falls

As night falls: rushing roaring raging wind,
and clouds are grey things running in the sky.
There’s no emotion here unless you want
to count my speechlessness as feeling. It’s
not awe: awareness, feeling what it is
to feel the present in its own terms:
today, not relative to some remem-
bered past or some imagined future time:
no wanting things to be more or less
or different from what they seem to be.

They’re rushing overhead. My feet make
fixed rhythm on the asphalt. Sunlight fades
the western sky—no sun really,
just pale grey light becoming quiet black.