The harmonies of evening, land, and sky,
covered by the shadow of the earth
with day above us in the clouds,
finches in the thistledown, swallows in the air,
the church upon the hill with cows,
all of it in harmony, even searing tires
down the paved road past the ridge
figuring with narratives of crows,
even the sigh of an old poet on the porch
forgiving those he once thought friends,
the river over stones beneath the bridge.
