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Only during the day would steel grays become sandy browns, and only when would the spectrum

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of rainy clouds become beautiful skinned browns gliding across the shadows until dusk, when

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grays and city underglow RGB flying lights would be the only natural, unnatural radiance

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to gaze at, floating bubbles to floating cars, white lines of highways now no more lines,

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only an array of angles, all possible ones. On some days the light would cast a purple

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fusel glare, oh I would stand to see it until it was gone. It was our eclipse where we lived,

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it seemed what was vibrant was the hopes of a spectrum we used to know and not only dream

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about, where rainbows were from rain not 2am city lights, where and when an eclipse meant

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sun and moon not hover car and sun, missed days missing old ways, but I guess browns

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are good and rare violets are okay, maybe we will see the old light one day.