Afterevening Poem by Rahman Henry

An afterevening is there
In-between this night
And this very dusk, when,
You have nothing to do:
No book, no song, no drinks— nothing
Is more boring than talking oneself; so

You should never try to do that
And I can assure you: an afterevening
Is that time, when, you are really alone

A lonely bird is swimming throughout darkness
And this mild sound of Its soundless wings
Is the only verse you can share with the universe.