True Sensation

As the expectation of coldness nudges in
As the clock changes its digital shape
To signify the death of a season
Mad and I wait
Embraced
Orange dim light in the renovated kitchen
Insects songs pour in through the window
Anticipating the great change
Exaggerating the thing that's never ending
A kind of joke
Or memorial for time that's passing
Or possibly in honor of what may be coming
The clothing we could be wearing

In the clock's glow I step away from True Sensation
To view from a removed position
A tower or screen or just pure distance
Months pass as pebble fall from a platform tilting
And momentarily I forget that this is
Ending