An empty darkness fills my room
as I lay down to sleep.
No things or people here can loom
within this vacuous deep.
My soul is hollow as I stay
awake to watch the black,
the void out there has slain the day
and filled me with its lack.
And yet I strain to catch the sight
of something in that dark
some little flash, some little light
a tiny, living spark.
For some strange feeling in the air
still keeps me watching late
it itches like a stranger’s stare,
but kind. It bids me wait.