Back to standard time

A sky of brass

washed the crows

who watched the street

below the light poles

which soon shut off

for the day.

And venus gleamed

before the sun

washed out

her twinkle too.

I stood at the corner

waiting for the bus

to take the short hop

across the bay

then two long blocks

to enter the tunnel

that plunges under it.

Up the escalator

into the heart 

of downtown Oakland

where I now must

mend my own

while the sun does

what it wants unveiled today 

before the clock says

that it's time to descend

back under the bay

and climb the stairs

to my empty rooms

before the gloom of these

ever shortening days

sends the crows

back to their roosts.

where ever that may be.