Twilight descends.

Oh, the "twi" of it!...the why of it!...
the I of it!....The world dissolves.
I am buried by the purple orchid
blossoms that fall on my head. What I
know, what I once knew, disappear.
Everything is taken. I am on the stage
of some grand illusionist, and who can say
what is real now? I cup my hands to
hold the dusk, but there is no holding
it. It pours through my hands. It
surrounds me. I am enveloped. I taste
it, but cannot touch it. I watch, but
it slowly slips away toward dawn.

I stand in the dark on Water Row.
Where am I?

After a walk on the Row
November 4, 2005

All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
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