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The game

It’s a late hour. Everyone is sleeping and you have to sleep.
In the morning at eight the game will commence.
Sun will rise tomorrow at eight.
Strong morning tea and strong morning ice.
Two of rules of the game. If you break them – you’ve gone.
In the morning you’ll be sorry that you are awake
 
But right now trees are knocking with their branches to window glasses
You can get to bed and sleep and murder this night
Trees are scratch ink dark glass like beasts
It’s not too late to get to bed and sleep on this night
 
No rings, no footsteps, no tingling of keys,
Just a faint tick-tocking of your bedside clock.
Everyone around is a long time asleep.
Just days are dripping from time
Like a water from a tap.
You’ll go woodcutting just to find that it’s all done.
 
But right now trees are knocking with their branches to window glasses
You can get to bed and sleep and murder this night
Trees are scratch ink dark glass like beasts
It’s not too late to get to bed and sleep on this night
 
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