tangling

sliding down the wall
a heap of limbs
tangled
like tired vines
shedding fruit
they stretched against each other
brushing aside shadows
reveling in dusk
where stars and fireflies meet
before all is quiet
one last howl
greeting the crescent moon
sounds of the world
recede
no cars or talking
just rustling leaves
to be heard
amidst their calming breaths
as they watch the last streaks
of violet and midnight
meshing
tangling