A Partial List of Evening
It comes down
like how you take
off your clothes
looking out the window.
The last of the sun’s
cursive on a field
completing a warehouse
of shadows.
You close your eyes
into how it falls.
Its arrival leaves
a paperback’s worth
of fear in the hills
where the weather hides,
where the sky’s
an ambushed theatre.
We look each other
up and down
in the last of the light
as if we’ve just met.
A Partial List of Evening