Night Comes On
Remember, we told stories
on the way to sleep. When the cat
left the room we felt the darkest dark
enter. Of the world's laments we heard
something elemental. Water trickles
on its own weight. Bees rework
the hive. In bonfires we age,
in lichen we stay the same.
Wind rises in the hawthorn,
and a dream comes true.
I saw a freighter stilled by small craft,
the night unbaling pepper
still warm from the East China Sea.
You saw a team of horses coming
to the field's edge to meet you
on your way home. Other nights
we woke to mistakes--in part
our own doing--leaving a door unlocked,
cutting off a phone call too soon
and saying aloud, I've decided
how I want to live and it isn't this
when we meant don't go.