Evening is here, and I am here At my baize table with a glass, Now sipping my unfizzy beer, Now looking out where on the grass Two striped and crested hoopoes glean Delicious insects one by one. A barbet flies into the scene Across the smoky city sun. My friends have left, and I can see No one, and no one will appear. This must be happiness, to be Sitting alone with birds and beer. In a brief while the sun will go, And grand unnerving bats will fly Westward in clumped formations, slow And dark across a darkened sky.