came through a dark arch to a sky of moon,
to a wooden stair and broken house
black against blue luminous night air
and inside two dim rooms we stamped
to saxophone and candlelight and drum-beat
late into the night.
now the clock's tick tells me that I suck the dregs
of one more idle day,
here I sit and watch the inch long candlewick.
One at a time my friends all
to crouch within the dint of mattress and of couch,
I wait that hint of revelation late hours bring
though what they will reveal
I cannot say.