Quieter, still quieter, quiet down the energy pent up today,
for such recklessness cannot sit wasting by the window ledge at night
singing bold words to front the rising moon,
upstart voice of a vague promise made once to a dying love.
Focus now on how the dishes must be done and the skirt sewn, so
make up all your quiet work and wonder less, unthink
how your instrument sits strung in the corner,
lax in tuning and bowed in silent rest, waiting
while you must sit squinting your real work by the moonlight
fading through the window as it heads away to morning
all your soundless toiling, and sometimes smiling night.