the curtain is torn
the evening is gone
the grey rises up from the ground
somewhere in the sky
the sun will still rise
but you can't see it from here

midnight is gone
the stoplights come on
but the trees are still brittle and wan
waiting for leaves
like I wait for the seas
to wash in from the coasts to my plain

the evening is gone
the curtain is torn
wish I'd had the foresight to see
that all of the stars
will never be ours
until we smash the panes and flee

midnight is over
the dawn likes to roam
but I can't see the sun from here
endless grey skies
like your sullen eyes
wait for me, waiting too near

some mornings I
plan to see the sunrise
but it hasn't greeted me yet
lights burn and flicker
and I still run quicker
I'll meet you here come sunset.

© Jess Zelhart, 2005. Thou shalt not steal.