White Ibises at Dusk

The light goes soft.
The flowers want
to close their faces.
Our attention shifts.

The sea goes still
and so do we,
fill with that same
familiar longing
we cannot quite name.

Each evening
the white ibises
stream through the sky,
thousands of them
pulled home
all at once.

You may have watched them
gather in their colonies at dusk.

You may have seen
the way they stand
with lifted wings,
as if in worship.

You may have been
struck silent then
by something just beyond
the rim of memory,
that same familiar stirring
you cannot quite name.