THIS BLACKBIRD BEHIND THE SHADES

that always sings while the day fades.

Both here and far way.

Receding at a point, like waves.

While the evening expands

and the strand

surrenders to the low tide.

Like memory’s fingers

that linger.

Listen, silence.

Listen, it has started again.

A lapse is a friend.

Sky’s reservoir.

Far, never too far.