Muse

I watch the sky change
every day at sundown. I walk slower
and slower each time, my mind
merging with dusk.
I ask for something elemental,
old and patient as trees.
My memory turns to prayer, my thoughts
grow backward.
What’s happening to me?
Who’s the unseen listener here?
      ancient bird who set out
      before there were words for it, born
      with the first shreds of light
I follow her
flying behind me.