The Twilight Hour is dark in my room where
Sleep is elusive. It escapes me. It runs from me.
If I had the energy I would seek it out.
Keep it. Capture its essence and breathe it in
And crawl inside it and drift away.
I’d drift into sleep and feed off its warmth
And join all those who sleep.
I would shake off this loneliness and
The Twilight Hour would no longer be dark.
My dreams would be light and filled with sunshine.
Skimming stones and ripples blinking through.
Cool, flat sea. Warm summer breeze.
That’s what my Twilight Hour would be.