Soft piano keys. A sunrise and death
Evolution in grey brilliance. There are roads along cobblestones that none but children walk at too late an hour, unafraid and full of hope for another brilliant 4am sunrise. I feel these warm summer days like coats, soft and comfortable. barely a memory, but ages ago.
That's the trouble with time. It moves when you aren't ready, like ice, planets. Shifting through space unnoticeable, but real, leaving violent chatter along the way. And while lives are rebuilt and the earth funds new green projects, things- all things- carry on; unfeeling, unfettered and alive.