Whispers of solar sojourns Trouble my sleep-- The resplendent bitter brights, Bare ferryings from dawn to dusk. Night's doughtier recriminations, Also, trouble my sleep: Dark matter and matted pillows, Downy throws torqued tight After the squeaked release Of magnificent dreams. Those celestial rodeos Lassoing old Cygnus there-- Or others, darker-hued, Leaving me abandoned, bundled, sweated out Amid spotty silks And disastered caftans flayed. Too much dark or too much light! I do not know which trouble to choose. I say, "Let the cyan dawn ascend And shatter me." Or, softer, sleepier, "Let the navy night Arrive." Anything, anything other Than this continual, nocturnal-diurnal Rumination. I say, "Come sun, come light! Bring intensely The prickly press of piercing fact, Resplendent sheets of divulging day...." Ach, they trouble my sleep.