Let the night stroll, a dying dusk
Hunched and sleepless, scuttling
Into corners and under the rocks.
Let the hooting owls leave
Their concert in favor of hallowed
holes of solitude. Let them go.
Let the sandman’s work be finished
And sleep be lifted up on invisible wires
Like that fiercely colored stage curtain, the sun.
To the neon lights murmuring, to the graveyard shift troubadours,
to desires only revealed in darkness, be gone with the night.
Let the night go once again, for the day
has no place for him or the night.