in the fall an evening falls

 in the fall an evening falls

as angry as sparrows

in the wind rain of words

beating up the morning 

laying down of the night

creeping eyed in darkening

the mindful slips away

down along the dark ways

of the demanding silhouettes 

unambiguously

the ambiguous 

settling now

what was meant to be

drawing on a log fire flaring

with a cat upon the knee

bats abroad in their daring

nothing else left to see

we off to bed the morning

until the dawning 

of the falling

as it was always 

meant to be