"THE EVENING WINDOW"
The day lets go, its frantic gold is spent,
And on the glass, a film of cool is laid.
The streetlights blossom, yellow, diffident,
Where shadows thicken, unafraid.
A single car slides by, a muffled sigh,
Its engine sound swallowed by the deep.
I watch the clouds, like thoughts that wander high,
As the slow, quiet city falls to sleep.
And in this hush, no grand design is clear,
No sudden truth descends to make me whole;
Just the simple fact of being here,
The quiet mending of the waiting soul.
D