Poem-A-Day: Day 130

G’night

“G’night”

was the last thing he said
before vanishing to lonely absolution
in the dark cauldron mouth of the horizon.

Not two words,
not quite one,
just some simple amalgamation
representing thoughts of well wishes.

He was a stranger,
always stranger than the last,
never, always more normal than he seemed,
as he walked silently into the night
with doting backpack dragging by his side.

The backpack carried feelings
too heavy to bear on shouldered burdens,
so it followed closely,
picking up the gathering filth of the day…

The weight of time,
stuffed neatly into a bag,
that leaves no more than the dusty word,

“G’night.”