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...and it's time for coming indoors, putting on the nice clothes, and taking responsibility. It's time for putting your official face forward. We're all drained. Time to join the banality of the real world once again.
Blah blah blah. Who's got time for poetry when you've got so much to do? There's errands to run: gotta go shopping and then home to eat supper with the wife. Maybe afterwards you can sit for a while and watch the sunset, appreciating nature and trying to forget that the pretty red glow is brought to you by commuters motoring to and from the city. But hey: there's beauty in small things still. There's wonder in a band saw, and poetry in a bowling alley. You just have to know how to look.
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