On Sleep

When falling shadows drip slow, eye-
lids sore of shuddered sleep,
Those twilight hours sifting by,
saunter on snaking feet.

In the din of silence, thoughts pour
from the bed , humming wild,
rousing the carpet above the door.
Waking, gasps a lost child. 

I close my eyes, and open them again,
Darkness and humming are all that remain.

I find myself groaning, there but not
found, confined by the black, now
white, an old sequestered séance
twilight will long allow.

In paralyzed paroxysm,
Me, now dark-sedated,
Holding out for bodily spasm,
For night abrogated. 

I close my eyes, not to open again,
leaving sheer silence, the only remain.

I am buried alive by fans,
Cooling a furtive flame,
Intoning busily humming plans,
To quench a silent claim.

Hear the hum? I am that I am. 
Dizzy lost in hummery heaved
Inward, the sacrificial lamb,
I am a night unrelieved.