Late Air

From a magician's midnight sleeve
            the radio-singers
distribute all their love-songs
over the dew-wet lawns.
            And like a fortune-teller's
their marrow-piercing guesses are whatever you believe.

But on the Navy Yard aerial I find
            better witnesses
for love of summer nights.
Five remote red lights
            keep their nests there; Phoenixes
burning quietly, where the dew cannot climb.

Elizabeth Bishop in Complete Poems