A slice in the sky at dusk,
red bleeding from bluish-gray,
golden orange descending into the sea.
Colors gush and coagulate, breathe and retire.
Calm, steady winds clear the cloudy ceiling higher,
as the moon forms a scab in the night –
its eery yellow beams stab stars in black cloth.
The nocturnal stage is set for crickets,
chorus frogs, bats and moths
whose amplified sounds do little to help
the insomniac’s cause.
Stillness finally comforts the weary,
head resting on the pillow,
tired eyelids heavy,
sealed shut –