Evening, when nothing is found

but what was lost in the day.


This is the time of peace:

the evening shadowed time,

dark and wanting nothing

after the day of expectations

that nourish and diminish,

and fill you with doubt

and with the joy of success.


The evening is the quiet space

of doing no more than being

with yourself, alone, not tugged

and battered by the scheduling.


The evening of stillness where

nothing of demand can be heard,

nothing but the slightest whisper of

the trees chatting with the breeze.


Evening, where thoughts wander,

and there is nobody to corral

them into any other purpose

but the presence of being here.