by Peter Gallaher
Good morning, Night,
Does all go well?
We dream inconsequential dreams.
You stand silent watch.
Stars slip by, the ghosts of gods
Great men, monsters in the sky
Colors, fallen away to places
Shadow cannot cover,
Create brilliance in symphonies
Of gravity light and heat.
In silence without and within
You slip, gone so soon
Ignored so often
Content to leave us to ourselves.
I greet you and wish you'd stay
Perhaps within me please
And help me to make it
Through the long, long day.