A Glow in the Dusk

Twilight comes to me,

even when hearts don’t.

The evening folds itself softly,

a quiet glow settling on my skin

like the world has paused

just to breathe.

You can avoid me,

ignore me,

close every door—

and still the dusk stands beside me,

unmoving, unafraid.

I remember the sun sinking over the hills,

round as an old rupee coin,

its light falling on me gently,

whispering,

“I will return tomorrow.”

Clouds hide it,

hills swallow it—

yet somewhere above all that,

the sun keeps shining,

still showing me the way.

And the light,

that small remaining piece,

rests quietly inside me,

warm as a hand on my chest.

So I walk back

holding that faint glow,

carrying it in my soul

like a promise

that never leaves.