The day is done,

And we pass each other, like

So many birds trading schedules in the dark.

Hope plays upon our crests and roosts in our chests,

As we continue our lives in concentric circles from each other.

Owls nestle now their heads and red-winged blackbirds stir,

Dancing past hollow trees to congregate to meet another day.

As long as there is song in the air,

The still of calm will have foothold over us.

As long as bird breath comes out loud and strong into brightening air,

It means humanity gets one more day to try again,

And do it better.