Climb, claim your shelf-room, far
Packed from inquisitive moon
And cold contagious stars.

Lean out, but look no longer,
No further, than to stir
Night with extended finger.

Now fill the box with light,
Flood full the shining block,
Masonry against night.

Let window, curtain, blind
Soft-sieve and sift and shred
The impertinence of sound.

Now draw the silence up,
A blanket round your ears;
Lay darkness close and sure,
Inverted cup to cup
On your acquiescent eyes:
Dismissing body's last outposted spies.

Added: Feb 21 2003 | Viewed: 584 times | Comments (0)

Poet: A.S.J. Tessimond
Poem: Night Piece
Volume: The Walls of Glass
Year: Published/Written in 1934
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