Evening with Table Lamp

Great dark gathers in our vast tree, its dense canopy hastening twilight for the capering bat as the day’s last cloud, yellow just now, hustles duskward, darkening to bat-dark.

Flutter and rustle of wings, of leaves. The huge black hackberry galaxy restless. The firefly clinging to your hair. You light our table lamp with unhurried conviction. Light huddles under our eaves. The bat seeks its own dark union.