Dancing In Twilight

Dancing in twilight
are magpies after
the light afternoon
rain and I stand in
the doorway of my
room listening to
them speak, their
wings dark as pines.
I see them descend
from the trees pecking
at the grey undersides
of olive leaves, the
waning autumn sun-
light shining upon
their sleek feathers
while they carry away
twigs in their beaks.
I watch them disappear
into the empty sky
their secrets gone like
soft puffs of wind. Now
I am left with their
memory and the cool
mist rising to greet
the first star before
the day ends.