The sun went down a little while ago
But pale, amber light still washes the sky,
Simmers on the walls of the bedroom.
It is past my bedtime, but I don’t want
To stop reading
So I huddle on the carpet, back to the window
Eyes gently tugging against the darkening pages
Eking out the last of the Summer day
So I can stay
With the hitchhikers and Cybermen
And witches cats and I’m not ready yet
For them to go away
It doesn’t feel like night, more
A hidden, secret part of the day.
An hour than opens and unfolds
A place that’s warm
And safe
The rooftops slope, diagonal, past the dormer window
Humming warm with the echoes of the sun
I read until the words are gone
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