Sleep

The evening hangs beneath the moon
silver thread on darkened dune
With closing eyes and resting head
I know that sleep [bad word] soon

Upon my pillow, safe in bed,
thousand pictures fill my head,
I cannot sleep, my minds aflight,
And yet my limbs seem made of lead

If there are noises in the night,
frightening shadow, flickering light…
Then I surrender unto sleep,
Where clouds of dream give second sight.

What dreams [bad word]  both dark and deep
Of flying wings and soaring leap
As I surrender unto sleep
As I surrender unto sleep.

Charles Anthony Silvestri, 1965-present