Night Falling by SR Inciardi

NIGHT FALLING 

Now the changes have stopped and what it’s come to 
has settled in     a curtain masking as it spreads 
so what was at one time discernible is painted 
in thicker darkness.     At this point I see it will not reverse     
another day weathered     another string of moments 
shaded by insistence—soundless sketches of how real objects 
appear bloodless     stripped of their depth     blended 
with their variances. 

It’s not the daylight I miss     but the touch 
of what once stood before me     the comfort seeing it     
knowing it was there in the light     now both unreachable.
It’s the darkness that seems to hold the more natural light 
among the new air that’s turned cold shifting 
between two selves: one that knows 
what the daylight once gave and the other that knows 
when the light returns     each day will be different.