An Evening Out
In the crowded room suffused with
sunlight from the great slant of evening
I see none but you: golden, smiling,
pouring life into the air, which rides on the
sparking dustmotes—
dipping, weaving through the million
threads of conversations I do not hear.
This moment stills into near nonexistence
but finds a new dimension that reaches
for infinity, for the edge of the trifling known.
I don’t recall what it was I said.
My words slid out and were lost the
moment the air received them;
meaningless, trivial,
as are all things
—or else nothing is.
The fat gold light from the round
downing sun filled all the window
behind me, casting deep shadow in
the shape of my own thoughts across
the table smudged with glassrings.
Though I felt forever in the air,
the light dimmed, the sun went down,
we left toward home,
and everything dissolved into the next thing
as it always has and always will.
5
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