Recluse at Sundown

She lays awake on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what she thinks. She gets up, still sitting on the bed; she looks around at the white walls that surround her. While her friends are out there enjoying, she just puts the phone away while they’re calling. She doesn’t know why she’s doing what she is doing. She doesn’t know what it is that she’s feeling. But all she knows is she has become what they call, a recluse. She splashes some water over her face, expecting it to clear the things out for her. Disappointed, she comes back and sits at the window, looking all of the time far away.

She looks at the roads, so empty.

She looks at the houses with no one inside.

She looks at the trees which have withered.

She looks at the day slowly fading to night.

While she wonders what to think of what she has become, she probes on what she’s trying to find. While she thinks of how she loves being outside, she thinks about the void that she’s feeling inside.

As she waits for her friends to return, she thinks about how she will start to explain.

As she tells herself that everything is just normal, she fears there will be a sundown once again.

She hasn’t figured what it is that she feels, but she plans to go out on the streets all alone.

She will sing of her life, to the trees. She will sing of the world that she thinks is her own.

But just before she sets out for the walk, something beckons her, for a second, to turn around.

She smiles ,for this time she knows what she’s feeling and starts to write of the recluse at sundown.