In the still—and at the still—of night,
as dusk lets down its folding hem,
like a lover pressing quiet lips,
Heaven draws its gold away—
with its whitening clouds,
its pristine, sealike blue.
And as the final rays descend
and blush into the dark,
the world grows still, begins to show
its hidden, startled depths—
drawing you and me outside
to lift our gaze, our necks,
that the Milky Way might sow
its streaming seeds of stars.
