That Twilight Hour

The rampant nostalgia, a war between the past and present, a settling of grievances.
playing bmx video games at 7pm, that same song ticking
thick humidity, the sound of crickets
driving home from junior high
late nights
early mornings
summer school
a warm garage
sitting in the empty announcer box
walking the empty underpass
peering out the window from the empty conference room, 7th floor.

I've been looking for that photo for 7 years and never found it
the sun melting
a group walking with purpose and freedom
an arm outstretched or maybe a smile
strolling the sidewalk of a simple boulevard infused with the warm purple light
of the departing afternoon.
That twilight hour, there before I could describe it.
That twilight hour.