Come In

As I came to the edge of the woods,

Thrush musichark!

Now it was dusk outside,

Inside it was dark.

Too dark in the woods for a bird

By sleight of wing

To better its perch for the night,

Though it could still sing.

The last of the light of the sun

That had died in the west

Still lived for one song more

In a thrushs breast.

Far in the pillared dark

Thrush music went

Almost like a call to come in

To the dark and lament.

But no, I was out for the stars:

I would not come in.

I meant not even if asked,

And I hadnt been.