Is it the middle yet? Is either direction the same moon? It feels as though I am here, at Night; I find myself atop a Couch, music playing: Singing and the lyre pervade The darkness, whistles and Claps, inside a celebration Sleep evades, but not without a Smile. It's a heavy set, water and A cracker, nighttime's having its Day; rejoinders, distillations, wrapped In a grape leaf