I am enveloped in near darkness.
the world around me is shadowed in a way that it can only be at dusk
the sky, though darkened, seems somehow lit,
creating a brightened image in the sky.
the tint of orange makes it seem
as though the last bit of Sun must still be peeking over the horizon
in some unknown place.
the Sun’s last licks have spread through the sky
like watercolors,
diluted and dispersed among the clouds.
this half-darkness is confusing, disorienting.
nothing is quite the same as it appears in true daylight

it seems extraordinary to me
that this is the first time
I have ever witnessed the world in such a way.
does this happen every night without me?
I find myself emotional

the longer I sit,
disorientation slowly edges into clarity.
things may not be as I have seen them before, but with this new light
comes new understanding.
silhouettes:
sharp jagged branches, bushy tree tops
chirping birds and rustling squirrels have been replaced by
quiet crickets and lone cicadas.
as the sky has lit up with this orange hue,
the world around me too has been altered.
each color is dulled and muted, blurred
to shades of almost-something, maybe-nothing.
though it may sound sad,
this dulled world does not seem to lose its brightness.
the light just comes from a different sky.

a chill rocks through me, and I am suddenly aware of
the cold.
the orange tint has drained from the sky
bit by bit,
sliding the world into dark.
the temperature has dropped.
icy fingers of darkness wrap themselves around mine, drawing me in.
I am not afraid.
somehow, the cold feels comfortable, and welcome.
the Moon seems to beckon me to her.

I have lived in this world for so many years,
yet I have never experienced all of it.
I realize:
it is one thing to know your world in the daylight,
when it is illuminated for you,
but it is another being entirely in the darkness.