Tonight, the sun doesn’t really set.
It fades into the background like the last image of a film,
retreating behind the cars making their way home—
or farther into the world,
coupled with delicately shaking hands
and soft breaths.

But they’re probably just heading to dinner
and a movie.
This isn’t the kind of town that people
pass through for more than business or family matters.
Folks don’t come for the adventure and
leave with a handful of vintage postcards
and a few words on the ethereal splendor of the local Chick-fil-A.
Beneath the asphalt there are layers of fossilized button-downs and pantyhose and cookbooks and perhaps calculators and Bibles
as well.

The yellow of the evening
has collapsed into the arms of a
faintly chuckling blue-gray night.
I can’t help but agree with it.

Still though, it’s not a bad place to be —
as long as you’re not planning on
dying here.