Each.

Knowing life would change,
the dew
slowly, bitterly appeared on the grass.

Each drop, to each blade.

Each clinging like I did to the symphony in my ears,
filtered through the latest album.

Weeds, without notice, rampant in their enthusiasm,
sprouted.
Leaped out.

Forming shadow jungles for my pleasure,
in the dusk.

Imagination to spark imagination,
shimmering with tomorrows
each an unknown.

While I watched, while I stared,
each evening faded.

Breathing in the absence of anything else to do
inhaling words

Waiting.