The last sun of the day

Mid April grasps for spring 
my ears open to the wind 
my body closes to the chill 

the birds are happy
feather coats don't come off
and cold blood only has to call

for the bulb unobstructed
while sinking is guaranteed 
for the thinking on which we feed

to reply "that is all"
as darkness does
what it has been instructed to do.