To sleep

A DARK NIGHT AND A SHEET OF ICE CRACKING IN THE WORLD.
 A STRONG WIND BLOWING THE LONELY WAIL OF LOST TIME.
 BUT I STUMBLE UPON A MOONLIT HAVEN AND WONDER,
 WHERE BEST TO LAY MY SLEEPY HEAD?
 RIGHT THERE WHERE TIME MIGHT CEASE TO BE AND TOMORROW
 BUT A THOUGHT IN THIS SLEEPY HEAD.
 
 Milan and Aosta February 15029 2006