Rest

Other animals, not too dissimilar, seem
To be getting restless as night deepens.
Despite all the satellites and bric-à-brac
Spinning near to crashing back, despite
The little cobweb empire of electric light,
The Earth still buries its face in deepest
Night each night like someone rolling away
On the pillow from the person who’s sum
Of everything personally important now
To dark and dreams’ reminder that no one
Is the sum of so much importance for long,
That there’s more beyond the halo of odds
And ends, beyond the edges of this orbit,
And less, much less, so much emptiness.