A blackbird embroiders the dusk
with song, to the background thrum
of sluggardly traffic homeward bound.
A bee on its last shift of the day
flits among the flowers as petals fold.
A star takes shape in the horizons haze.
A pulse of light that has traveled
through space for three millennia.
In the twilight I watch and wonder.
When the starlight began its voyage
did Pharaohs walk in the shadows
of the columns of Luxor, while slaves
labored to build their tombs.
Three thousand years from now
will there be a twilight watcher?