The early morning
Is silent and still
The sun still sleeping soundly
Along with the rest of the nation
The sky is a musty gray
And the bitter cold is biting
At the trees
The day is like a dusty book
Sitting silently, untouched
By the breath of life.
The early evening
Is bustling with lights
Of all different colors
All sorts of sounds
All sorts of people
The sky is pink and orange
As the cold wind
Meets the warm sun
As it sets on the horizon
After a long day.