The Rest

What was now, is once no longer.
The light blonde head on the bunk bed,
The magic of disembodied
Music digitizing the air,

The far away puppet-master,
A real puppet-master, giving
A lecture on puppet sculptures
As instances, not metaphors,

In a university town
Known for Shakespeare, an hour from here
And half a mile higher, in snow,
Are all together as they gleam

In the spotlight of awareness
Circling itself and settling down
Like a domesticated cat
Come to bed. We all need the rest.