Twilit

In the street, children gather bits

of sidewalk chalk from their day

spent painting the town.

I am sitting on a friend's porch

satisfied by the early evening breeze

when they call for me to lie

on my back

in the grass.

They have ground the remnants

of their chalk in a bucket

that last week they were using

to wash neighbor's cars for money

They laugh as they spread

the dust over me, and then

leave

as I remain there

the color of the twilit sky

supine on the floor of the city.