Walked into the darkened room and stood still there,

Waiting for light from windows open near the trees.

Touched with two finger-tips the back of the chair

Felt the soft edge of the bedside brush his knees.

Breathed the cool indoor midnight air, and sighed.

Heard his wife breathe slow, and stir in her sleep,

Her head only a darkness on the dim pillow, still

And small, and far away, and lost to him in her sleep.

Slowly undressed. Saw in the mirror faintly move

His own arms, and the shadow move, made by his head.

Heard somewhere outdoors wheels pass by on the road.

Moved again, got himself partly into his bed.

Then leaning over her face, lightly without words

Kissed her. Then slid down, and soon after slept.

And the whole house, whole in darkness, lay asleep,

Each room in its own way dark, and its quiet kept,

The floors hushed, and the walls and rigid furniture,

Books lining the shelves, and dishes, pictures, doors.

And the next house lay all asleep, and the house beyond,

And all the small roofs over other rooms and floors.

No one, or very few, walked in the sleeping streets

Or walked on the hills outside the quiet-sleeping town.

It was night. The trees moved a little. The stars faint

And the moon among clouds sent light a long way down.