Last Visible

I’ve spent many an evening in and around Riverside Cemetery. At the dead end of two roads indeed, how appropriate. Chipman Avenue, this one, comes in front the north, and your way in west is from Rectory Street. Both are about as quiet as it gets in my hometown. Save for mourners and dog walkers, who else would bother? I guess that just leaves twilight wanderers like me. Blue builds slowly, sure, layers of clouds cutting light to its last visible wavelength. I consider these times like diving deep, submariner or scuba diver under atmosphere. Walk me down a line of trees that mark my way to darker dreams. The winds tonight shake millions of twigs still begging leaves, red buds breaking free. Tips like cocoons unfurling, on a spring that’s slow to come.

April 30, 2026
Bridgetown, Nova Scotia

Year 19, Day 6745 of my daily journal.