I want to write a neat little introduction to this post. One that walks you right up to the front door of the poem so you all go yes! and get it all completely. But my mind is smeared after three sleepless nights and my own ideas are fully ineffable to me. What I would really like is to do this all wordlessly and intimately.
And I can't get to sleep these nights without imagining somebody is there with me, sitting silently by my bed as if I'm sick, ready with a cold flannel. I'm not sick at all, though, just tired and fretful. And this poem seemed lovely to me last night. It's by Carl Sandburg.
Dreams in the Dusk
Dreams in the dusk,
Only dreams closing the day
And with the day's close going back
To the gray things, the dark things,
The far, deep things of dreamland.
Dreams, only dreams in the dusk,
Only the old remembered pictures
Of lost days when the day's loss
Wrote in tears the heart's loss.
Tears and loss and broken dreams
May find your heart at dusk.