time stops

it's a party, but no one
is in a party mood.
we sit outside in the oppressive
heat
and drink.
the colored lights are subdued
some blink,
some don't.
we stare at what's left
of a harvest moon.
time has stopped.
we take seats, making
them our own,
or lean
against the rail
above the darkened lawn.
no one eats, no one
has much to say.
we drink.
it happens.
not every party can be fun,
can be gay.