That summer there was morning sunlight as I walked to the bus stop or instead took the long walk from home to campus. That summer there were endless games of chess, days we spent mimeographing newsletters against the war. Being with you mornings before work. It all seemed to stretch out forever, such a long, long time ago.
The sun slants, hitting the stop sign on the corner. Barely visible by evening, it flows red this morning. The tops of the trees colored bright. This evening they will be shaded and muted. The tall oak down the street colored bright as the sun slides below the horizon.