The Sun sets, and it's evening.
	A name just right.
	The time a closing of day's
	events and missions making way to their ends
	into a calm
	before all is gone
	home, out for the night, to sleep.
	Cooling off from heated daytime
	energies and rushing descending into the softening lubrications of drinks and
	lovers
	and easy chairs before television's entertaining.
	Every intention to contrast starkly the pleasures of the dark from necessities
	of the light.
	Make strides escaping
	omnipotent toil and ruthless means
	to survive, live a while as achieved, proud, one for the ages...
	But to break from there...to slink
	away out of professional skins and suit up
	for debauched occasions. All destinations
	have an approach...we slide
	into ease through transition...evening,
	a metamorphosis itself.
	It is our evening.
	evening out, evening the keel,
	the pivot
	on which we begin to make right
	the day, come back
	into order with our senses
	away from fluorescence and duties
	and air all too well known.
	Evening, the moments
	we move to resolution, recentering
	...well, at least enough to prepare
	for tomorrow.
Copyright 1998 John Feissel. All rights reserved.