As this first night knows me

as my soul becomes its dream

I understand my small being

is one with time's vast scream.

Even now I know between

my heart's first aspen flutter

and its last soft ashen beat

endless dark passions must clutter

my every empty lonely night

and bear down to hold my mind;

only this one moment knows a calm:  

a velvet dark - a fusty smell - find

the mantling wing,

my mother's ancient shawl

warm wool winged

holds my drowsy head in thrawl

driving night's dark dæmons

from the soft innocence

from my dawn-drawn bed