Somewhere amidst the day the sun disappeared, Emitting no longer the rays it was expected to As clouds and pervasive grey cloaked the day, Slowly squeezing us into packets of clothes, Only noses emerging for sharp gusts of air. Next to the moon’s dark side or an eclipse this was, At least for now, the closest we’d come to total blackout. Lethargic balls of stunted motion, we moved on, About our days, huddled in holes where the warmth made up For the complete lack of light, the survival instinct driving us Further and further from open windows. In corners we sat, Each in his own cavern of self-protection, enveloped in Clothes – the most layers we had on hand – shells and cells To keep off the force of the cold, scarves wrapped like Igloos and coats rising tent-like around our neck’s battlements, Vital signs somewhere palpitating under layers of ice, just Enough blood pulsing beneath in channels not yet frozen. Did we even see the sun that day? If we did, the night-time of 4pm made us forget, Swarthy strokes of black paint across the horizon Of the day’s dull canvas. Driving home, the road Ran ocean-current-like through the twilight zone of sky, Darting cars like anxious eels cut through the waves, Every streetlight a beacon and our spirits gasping divers Rising, as the day died, for quick gulps of latent light.