What Evenings Hold

To never come close again:
could your heart even bear it?
Don't ask. Don't answer. 


Do only what's needed.
Plant, gather, be patient with
your daily suffering. 


An owl's voice comes clear
in the newly quiet evenings.
Now there's time for talk.


O my beloveds.
Four clouds, coming to rest on
the sill at eye-level.

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