It is some respects the outcome of a heavy day,

a difficult conversation,

a trying imagination without a cause.

When the fatigue stops our eyes,

where once we stood,

we know drowsily a memory.

While the tiresome moo, continues

with gentle caprice,

to light our night, we do suddenly

decide we could go perhaps

stay.

It is in the long enduring reality of our lives,

the awkward silence, the sleep.