Searching the Seam in the Rhythm

The evening settles slightly
Blue and green at horizon.
Everyone’s planning what’s gone.

It’s ok. It’s got to be.
Every excess leads to dusk,
Every dusk to excess dark

Or the lights of the cities—
Evening’s going down to ground,
Taking its jewel box of lights.

Calm means no obligations
To the quiet you’re craving.
Blue along the garden fence,

Here where there are still gardens
For those without small fortunes,
And the birds sing blue to bed.