An ordinary jet-tracked sunset
much the same as yesterday
tomorrow may be too
contrails going gold and ash
west to a vanishing point
from where we are
in this rich and fertile mystery
close enough to touch
watching the sky feeling the currents
of evening on the backs of our necks
we two alive at the same time
when in the sprawling universe
this happens nowhere else we know of
and even more
we can tell each other what we feel
you can understand me
i can empathize with you
so let us honor language
and let us praise coincidence
among these gentle influences
perhaps even dare to touch.
