Falling Asleep

Voices moving in the quiet house
 Thud of feet and muffled shutting doors
 Out in the night there's autumn-smelling gloom
 Crowded with the whispering trees
 Across the park
 A hollow cry of hounds like lonely bells
 The low, red, rising moon
 Now herons call
 And wrangle by their pool
 And hooting owls sail above pale stooks of oats
 Waiting for sleep, I drift from thoughts like these
 And where today was dream-like, build my dreams
 Music, a white room below
 And someone singing a song
 About a soldier, one hour, two hours ago
 And soon the song will be last night
 But now the beauty swings across my brain
 Ghost of remembered chords
 Which still can make such radiance
 That I can watch the marching of my soldiers
 And count their faces; faces sunlit faces
 The herons, and the hounds
 September in the darkness
 All fading past me into peace
 When the old light comes in
 It's as sharp as a knife
 You feel the drift in the pub
 As the radio cries
 September's stars, September's lies
 September's stars, September's lies
 When the old light comes in
 it's as sharp as a knife
 You feel the drift in the pub
 As the radio cries
 I'll know you when I see you
 Now the mirrors are misted
 But the room is the same
 I see the face in the place in the painted lane
 Ursa major at the edge of the rain
 Ursa major at the edge of the rain
 And now the mirrors are misted
 But the room is the same
 I see the face in the place in the painted lane
 I'll know you when I see you
 Waiting for sleep, I drift from thoughts like these
 And where today was dream-like, build my dreams
 Music, a white room below