Evening

Hard work can make my mind go blank —

a pleasant wordlessness

of well-used muscles,

the satisfying glow of tasks completed.

I took my emptiness

out to the counsel of the cloudy sky

where trees, assembled, 

marked their soft assent

to what the night would bring

The sound sphere was inhabited

by freeway’s roars and passing planes,

gravel turning under wheels of cars,

the parting barking of dogs

before they went indoors,

the final squawk of random birds,

and the quiet chink of wind chimes near the house.

All’s well.

The night will come

and we will sleep

while trees stand guard,

and in my dreams 

or in the early light of morning

may come my words’ return.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 1, 2013