Nightfall

Spiders weave skeletons
and sling them between leaves
wait, like undertakers
no echo of real intention
in fact, no word.

The sky is black and empty
and full of stars,
into the empty sky flames leap
like Autumn reversed
yellow leaves shrinking, disappearing.

There are foreign sounds.
Gumtrees rustle with the noise
of ancient paper put to flame
one by one forever.

It is settled then,
we will sleep.
The children have survived another day
(thank God or someone never
ourselves) they sleep
small, smooth-skinned
folded into the night.

All night we lie awake
hearing the soft buzz of captive flies
turning deeper and deeper
in their fast white blankets.