Nightfall Poem by Matthew Buchwald

A dreamer wanders alone in the snow.
His heart hides out in the cave of remorse.
But there's fury in him. Dread is held back
and the demon tears loose trying to drag him down.
The winter wind blasts hard footstep by footstep
as he stiffens, and shadows him closely,
a claw-fingered ogre through
the frozen alleys. It is absurd
that stillness and passivity surround him.
What seems more likely is the dejection.
He knows the birds will have fled the woods
by morning because he cannot smell them,
cannot feel their drowsing.
His body dwindles like a carcass lying
by the side of the road
that slowly decomposes
without realizing it is rotten
out of sight of the sinking sun,
unaware that its day has ended.