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
It is in the long enduring reality of our lives,
the awkward silence, the sleep.