Almost Dark

 

 

John Kay, Poetry

 

 

I have only to count

to know that it’s almost

 

dark. Subtraction works

too. Shadows grow longer

 

and distance blurs. And

I’m comforted that day

 

will finally end, and that

night, with all its finality,

 

its mysteries, its dreams—

is waking. Everything is

 

the same in either time,

except the way we touch.