Night Wish

Could we have night, now, please?
Would our human scurrying
succumb to the gravity of sleep — ?
Let the hush fall like Newton’s pound of feathers,
cloud the house with its dusk-colored quilt.

Might the soft twilight
now fill our mouths?
         As our eyesight descends,
Let the Northern Lights be
         our only concert.

I’ll take an inky black cupful, please,
tender and wet,
darker than indigo denim.
Pleiades, fill me up.