waiting for dark to come

I like to watch the dark come.
To hear the birds nestle in-
to their nests and each other.
To hear the traffic become
just a car passing by.
To see streetlights go from metallic
to the soft glow of a beacon that says,
somewhere in the night
we are all here.

I like to hear the night approach me.
The way the wind barely moves the chimes-
just a whisper
that quiets me enough to hear.
The kick of the furnace to keep me warm
as the cold creeps up into the sky
turning it as pink as an ember
before it extinguishes.
The sigh of my heart
in a lonely kind of peace
that begs for silence

I like to wait for the shadows to fall
after they’ve made their walk
through the sunshine and the fields.
Through the busy streets and
distracted people
who never notice the ways in which
they shrink and expand
within the light of each other.
I like the way the clouds cast off
into the ocean of the stars
The way the moon exposes itself
while the sun still shines
as if to defy the rules-
or rather, to enforce them.

I like to wait for the dark to come-
the way it seeps in slowly,
and the way the day soaks her up
so that it can replenish
and come again
brighter than it left.

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