Only during the day would steel grays become sandy browns, and only when would the spectrum
of rainy clouds become beautiful skinned browns gliding across the shadows until dusk, when
grays and city underglow RGB flying lights would be the only natural, unnatural radiance
to gaze at, floating bubbles to floating cars, white lines of highways now no more lines,
only an array of angles, all possible ones. On some days the light would cast a purple
fusel glare, oh I would stand to see it until it was gone. It was our eclipse where we lived,
it seemed what was vibrant was the hopes of a spectrum we used to know and not only dream
about, where rainbows were from rain not 2am city lights, where and when an eclipse meant
sun and moon not hover car and sun, missed days missing old ways, but I guess browns
are good and rare violets are okay, maybe we will see the old light one day.