The shadows of the evening take the house,
Dissolving colors in a broth of light.
The naked windows stand without a blouse,
In starkness more complex than black and white.
A window’s both a portal and a mirror,
Reflecting first, then letting eyebeams through.
It pushes you away, then draws you nearer,
Then night moves in and steals most of the view.
As shadows fall across my heart tonight, dear.
And, yes, my windows grow more black and cold–
Your own reflection may grow dim and less clear,
And my designs less vibrant to behold.
I will not, no I cannot stop the sun
From setting once the evening has begun.