Dusk is the closing of the park
And the last shot to be taken
On the court

The walk home
Shows the streetlights
Illuminate one by one

The walk down the hill
Sends a bend to the knee
That irk from the day’s game

The shortcut through
Broken stones branches
And leaves once invisible
From the white of winter snow

The steep hill
With blunt rocks and metal rods
Makes tired legs walk carefully

Leading down stairs
Of countless conversations
And meetings of what
The day will bring

Up to the final hill
Which seems like an
Eternity to walk

Dusk is those
Final steps to a forgotten
House in a neighborhood
Where my childhood resides