15:20 backlit wisps and railroad tracks in the sky. flashes of starlings’ wingtips. I look at the river too long, and now see it every time I blink.
15:24 the twittering of daybreak returns in earnest. the birds make sunday’s last stand.
15:30 a flock of black stars before the sun, they settle on the ghosts of trees.
15:32 visibly darker by the second. chattering birds swoop to aerial perches. I spot the crescent moon.
15:33 the horizon goes a dirty orange, over my head remains purest blue.
15:35 the sun loses intensity. I can now look at it through the branches, trees stark against golden glow.
(continues)
