Passing

In the evening

When friends have gone

The light is perfect and

The sun is slung low on the horizon reminding you of another day slipping full of you into the night.

When will you pick up the phone and tell her you love her, that you miss her or him?

Because another day is going

Life is passing

And love is abundant but rarely makes you laugh so.

And you’re still breathing

So what do you have to loose?