Evensong

The light is going.

Let it go.

It isn't being taken.

It's just going.

It will come back on its own —

things do that here.

Evening, come slow.

Evening, come kind.

We made it to the resting hour

on our own feet, in our own time.

Evening, come slow.

A year ago the dark was a door

somebody else would shut.

Now it's just the dark,

and we lie down in the open,

and the open holds.

Evening, come slow.

Evening, come kind.

We made it to the resting hour

on our own feet, in our own time.

Evening, come slow.

Evening.

(evening)

Evening—————