Night is long in coming.
Leaden gray clouds linger through
a colorless afternoon and gladly
surrender to the reluctant advances
of evening.
The world is a slow motion movie
run at half speed.
Darkness, stalled somewhere between
El Paso and Yuma\'s sculpted
sand dunes, is disinterested and
unhurried by a breathless sky.
It is doubtful if stars will even show up.
The moon? Anybody\'s guess.
Night, though, has always been unreliable,
ill mannered and temperamental.
I once knew a man who waited a
week for night\'s arrival but finally gave up
and moved to Finland.