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