Car pulls up in the rain rattled night. Taxi driver at the door. Better early that late I suppose. It matters less to want much more. Through the dark as the lights flash on past leaving too much too far gone. Blunt acts cut, thud and echo through time. Do kind ones fade before dawn? From reflection through projection to direction there's choices to make. Raise objection? Risk infection? Or just waves in our wake? Silence stings, swells and echoes through time. I lie awake before dawn. From reflection through . . . Good things heal, grow and echo through time if given space before dawn.
