I listen to darkness fall,
Sounds of the light
Fading,
An interlude of silence,
The hesitant beginnings
Of nocturnal chorus.
It is the interlude
That captivates,
The transfer of voice
To kindred spirits
Of the other side.
Tonight’s choir is lively,
The air pulsing,
The exclamations of
Owls marking each verse.
The cold will soon chase the
Singers southward,
Expanding the envelope
Of darkness,
Stretching the silence
Thin like wire.
Categories: Poetry