Night mutters to herself, so passing strange,
Scratching rooftops with her slender toe
While not-man voices chatter just in range
And shadows glitter to and fro.
Moon-gilded patches of the neighborhood
Seem haunt by dreams wrapp’d in spectral haze,
Imagined demons where in daytime stood
Known solids, unenchanted ways.
Undreamt potentials of the cave-dark night
Lurk just past lantern-edge, biding the hour
Till sleep’s own apparitions cloud the sight
And quench thought with their downy show’r.
IMAGE: Wright of Derby, Joseph (1734-1797). An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump. Ca. 1767-68. Oil on canvas, 72" x 96". Location:National Gallery, London, Great Britain. Photo Credit: Art Resource, NY
That was beautiful, to put it simply. You never cease to amaze me, Robbie F. Sweet picture, too.
Just one question: Do you ever sleep?
Hi, Sara. Yes, I do sleep sometimes. I get up most days at 4:30 a.m., though. Unfortunately I also hate to go to bed at a sensible time (like, say, 8:30 p.m.) so I often take naps in the afternoon.
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