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.