Night

Pictures of you
Are hung by my bed each night,
By silent figures,
Who, dressed in darkness,
Have no names

At their approach
I turn, a vague acknowledgement
Of their presence;
As, always remaining dumb,
They fulfil their task.

At first I was tempted
To ask for an answer,
To seek a reason, explanations,
But now in ignorance,
I absorb your features