The Evening
· poetry
Through rough patches and scrapes
To hear sneers, jeers, and japes
We press on
As traffic knots its way through concrete landscapes
In a world of wars, riots, and rapes
We keep breathing
As routine unfolds another carbon copy day
And reaches the point where there is nothing else to say
While evolving our way on this planet of apes
We make it home
Evening
When our day exhales
I replay the day and recognize the loss
How I could have played it better
Kinder, with more patience
Less distracted by the churning and burning
And more focused on learning
It’s much clearer
The unsung brilliance of the blue sky
The laughter and banter of my demographic
Enjoying the music as I sat in traffic
On my way home
To the joy of the golden ones
The apples of my eye
The noisy edges of the day
Resolve
Into round pear-shaped tones
JArtB
0620 07 November 2026