Foto: Canva
Goodnight, sun
Outside, mosquitoes everywhere like dark thoughts, persistent.
The boy, two summers old, waves them away –
a futile gesture of small hands against the late afternoon.
His black Schnauzer sits, patiently watching
the sun, a copper disk burning through branches,
bleeding last light into the backyard and living room.
Goodnight, the boy whispers to the sun,
not understanding farewell,
only the ritual of speaking to what will return.
Inside the house he clutches the remote,
sticky zoo-cookie hands, Peppa Pig frozen
mid-laugh, resisting the darkness,
the inevitable retreat into sleep’s soft,
unforgiving country.
The dog sighs as night approaches.