The Dreamer

by Djuna Barnes

 

 

The night comes down, in ever-darkening shapes that seem-- 

To grope, with eerie fingers for the window--then-- 

To rest to sleep, enfolding me, as in a dream 

Faith--might I awaken! 

And drips the rain with seeming sad, insistent beat. 

Shivering across the pane, drooping tear-wise, 

And softly patters by, like little fearing feet. 

Faith--this weather! 

The feathery ash is fluttered; there upon the pane,-- 

The dying fire casts a flickering ghostly beam,-- 

Then closes in the night and gently falling rain. 

Faith--what darkness!