Riding my bike home from work
in the not quite nearly night of the early evening.
My twin silhouettes, cast on the hedgerow from the headlights of the car behind me,
glide past my side as they overtake me
leaving me alone in the dark again.
My front light glints speckles of light
as it catches beer cans, bottles,
discarded items littering the grubby sullen roadside.
I think this light play is the only positive to another dull day,
until I reach the top of the hill and peer over my shoulder.
The waxing crescent of a silver new moon
hangs bright in the buff orangey pink light of dusk.
I stop and pull over to stare at it,
feeling undeniably alive.