Sundowning

when the sun is just above the horizon when the light fades and the colour of dusk that royal colour climbs and at that time yes knowing that the long night will arrive when everything is the most brightest in a house because of its design unless its a glasshouse or has skylights there are tombs in Ireland where the sun only shines in on a certian day its a dome shape with a little doorway they had found many sea eagle bones in there with other interesting stuff for some reason sunglasses in the pocket for me would be an idea but who knows what they will do with my old carcass wouldnt be as interesting as sea eagles though summer is here we even had an old ice cream truck with crazy music that toured the city for a time I dont think they have one anymore and once long ago a street vendor on a bike with a little cooler sold freezys and stuff and I wanted one and she bent over and stuck her upper arms head into the little box looking for this one variety it was very comedic and arousing at the time good memories some great poem Mr Longo as always

In your refrain and only wish for a moment that people who do suffer so much of this debilitating disease could come up with newer technology in helping the person who suffers with it.Long live Longo and I pray today will be lighter on yourbody, smoother to your mind, and freedom from any holds your body carries for you are one that does not need to suffer, you the one, with the words of a pharoah so kind in nature, so stark in the reality and sweet enough and strong enough to get up and write your poems. I am always in awe to see another write by you my dearest friend Longo, Ti penso sempre Mona

Ann of Norway Oh this night, "The night."  The night that shades the day  with tears of black  that tear away the fabric of your soul  and leave you wracked  and tired and barely breathing,  bleached and flamed with fire,  and roasted by the Devil's charmed advisers  broken like a vase  that shatters into pieces,  and then begins the task  of building up again  the fragmented self,  to put again upon the same shelf,  to watch it fall and rise again, and fall to rise.  Ah, would that I could bend the fates,  and give those fiery beasts their due,  and throw them in the grate  forever  and find you  new. Annuccia.

And Annuccia's poem... Mona TIME well spent is TIME well lived