The signals grow on radios (poetry)

When the night shows,
the signals grow
on radios

Preceding the stillness of dusk

before the shadows surround us

In the last few minutes of early evening 

before a line of dark red merges with violet horizon 

Dog walkers with privacy headphones make no conversation as they pass 

only the quiet percussion of loose chains and leashes 

The sound of dishes washed by hand rise from an open kitchen window   

mixing with static from radios 

the kitchen will be still by 7, but 

their music won't be clear until long after we are asleep 

^{lyrics from Peter Gabriel}