Away Day

My memory of the day is
you went away on the
train and I came home
to me again.  I shifted
stuff into their places
and cleaned for a guest.
I didn't sleep well, but
loved the languid quiet
of the dim room and my
squashy quilt.  The night
was a gem, still, silent,
not cold, that dusky
midnight blue in the sky
with the sunset tinge
which never really leaves.
And summer isn't even
here yet.

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