Letters from Afar

Turning from black to white
Or fading into gray
A moist lover’s kiss turning dry
Music fading over the horizon
Smoke drifting over the dim lamp
He walks away from shadows cast by a car’s lights
Muttering something about shaving
As he reaches up to touch his face without thinking
That single star in house’s window
Catches his eye
She’s most likely sitting watching some movie
There is no rain
There may be clouds, but he can’t see the sky
He’s not looking
The shadow that had followed him
Began to crawl out in front
As he silently passed under a street light
He thought of the cards in solitaire
A black number on a higher red card
And he saw what he needed
On the three that he turned over
The black nine lay behind the red seven
He could cheat, but was that really winning