Very much later again. Recollecting the images of days. Filing what piled up. Leaving a few notes here and there but overally feeling content seeing the structures and colours and lines shape imaginations and memories. An open wide city outside, remainders of sunlight and what seems distant fireworks. Exercises in savouring the short, ephemeral moment. And letting go, at least of a few dangling thoughts. Have a soft night wherever you are.
A lot later again, and still the softness of these weeks' light. Heading for the longest days, being more than ever like detached from actual daytime, lost to inner clock rather than a good emotional understanding of hours and minutes and it could as well be past mental midnight. Staring through dusty windows into the vast endlessness of these skies, waiting for stars and Moon to maybe show up. Maybe. Or for sleep to veil these eyes with dreams for now, whatever is first. Have a calm night wherever you are.
After dusk, after hours. The songs of the crows disappeared in unknown distances. Same as the wind. Quiet shadows of trees between houses and streets and the river and its meadows. Neighbours engaged in conversations on the balcony, an indifferent dog sleeping under that small table, candle flickering as if it was to prevent dark fully on its own. Striving to remember how the morning started but not getting hold of these thoughts anymore. Maybe there's goodness in this kind of forgetting, too. Have a soft night wherever you are.
Hours later and still not completely sure of the day. A wall of books, an endless sky, the sound of a bus and doors opening, closing, without getting people anywhere. Bats on erratic, random routes. A few birds. A phone ringing for way too many times. E-mail notifications, appointments set appointments missed and a long weekend fades into past. Turning the page again, but devoid of real poetry today. Have a soft night wherever you are.
The evening, kitchen edition. There's a similarity between beer and bread and somehow a strange nostalgia in both that predates industrial centuries and makes one ponder alternative styles of living and false perspectives on old crafts that work way different in these ages. (A day ending in thoughts same as pointless as the ones it used to start in. Meanwhile, city's about to get ready for this night and everything it might offer and in few cases this seems about anything but sleep. Be safe wherever you are and whatever you're into, heading for the new morning.)