Go Birding
Daylight ran short.
When’d the moon
show up? said someone
and then everyone. Inside
now the ocean feels a tug,
and the greenery
nailed to the door
stays green
long past its prime,
expiration date
expired. One could
inject anything into
the small-talk
of evening, but what
can’t be taken back
is the breath taken
with no thought.
Every sky turns
its back at last, no
applause needed. One
only demands that which
can’t couple for nothing.
