Night sneaks up on the jagged line of demarcation, that rough zipper closing day off from night. Mark this moment, this place: the post-meridian point of no returning to unfinished business left in the bottom drawer at the office. Water cooler jokes fade into an echo. Sun shifts to moon as twilight thoughts turn to dinner, bills, busy domesticity, books, friendship, jazz, talk of school chores games dogs and cats and who started the tussle, merging toward that long glide path into dreamtime. One last look to the west, even the trees lift to the light, fading.