sorrows tap-tap on the window glass
when shadows cool the autumn dusk I have closed the night. you may not come in so it is with them--persistent and gentle and used to getting their way, like a child with sad face who taps on your knee. read, look away, tell him later, later, but the rhythm and the chant say--now and you off to bed them in the darkened room and they do not sleep, and you do not sleep, for you have succumbed, let memory in and you do not sleep, and cannot sleep again |
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