Auroras

It began in a foyer of evenings The evenings left traces of glass in the trees A book and a footpath we followed Under throat-pipes of birds We moved through a room of leaves Thin streams of silver buried under our eyes A field of white clover buried under our eyes Or a river we stopped at to watch The wind cross it, recross it Room into room you paused Where once on a stoop we leaned back Talking late into daylight The morning trees shook off twilight Opening and closing our eyes auroras Beyond groves and flora we followed a road Dotted with polished brown bottles, Scoured furrows, a wood emptied of trees It was enough to hollow us out The evenings left grasses half-wild at our feet Branches with spaces for winds The earth changes The way we speak to each other has changed As for a long while we stood in a hall full of exits Listening for a landscape beyond us