Jacarandas at Dusk

There are certain destructions that can't be
Denied. I'll never know the texture of my own
Voice. It's always uncertain what I'll remember,
So I must take care to be here as it happens.
If I call, and you answer (swear you will),
We will be in conversation for all our lives.
I call you now, reader, call and wait on
The diminishment of the word, like the purple
Of the jacaranda when the evening comes on,
Silent and shading into absence, or the robin's
Warble in the near-dark, about to be consumed.