When evening begins to settle over the town
Windows turn pale yellow, the edges
Of bicycle spokes and outdoor grills soften,
And daylight lingers to bless the grass
And trees and transform a boy’s hand
Into gray before his eyes.
All creation is caught now
Between two worlds, a place
Where children long to stay –
Even as their houses, like bulky ships,
Are casting off into the night, even
As their mothers are calling, calling them home.