A Bit more Book of Hours

Yesterday's poem has been in the works for a while (read early fragments here and here), but a few hours with it yesterday seem to have brought it a long way. Nearly finished, perhaps? Today, I tinkered with whether "Waking" or "Dawn" belongs first. Think I'm gonna switch them, or possibly delete "Waking."

I'm also thinking of a last stanza to finish.

True Night

Oh let us have an hour
of snow falling into water,
a traceless hour, an hour
of unfelt change. Let the skin
take up the work of breathing,
let the room sigh, let sleep
tuck its rich and feathered head
beneath our wings.

It does have a finished feel. Maybe too finished.