Sundown, no, Civil
Twilight, the end
Of day in the books.
Inner edge of the rainbow.
The city is violet.
The city is a crèche
The animals are fleeing.
The sky is a sheet drawn
Over the body of the earth.
There are so many ways
Of saying we’re dead
When it just isn’t true.
All the light there was
Now concentrated in
The tiniest spaces.