Gold Going Gray

The sun was leaving the kitchen at 4:47.

I know because I watched it go.

The dishes—the one with dried egg yolk,

the spoon I used for coffee I don't remember—

suddenly mattered. They glowed.

Everything glowed. The counter was gold.

Then the sun went down the other side

of the neighbor's roof and it was gray.

Just gray. Just dishes.

I stood there longer than made sense,

watching the light leave like it was taking

something I'd counted on.