ar hyd y nos

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   does he understand the night, the man
who blinks in front of the cameras
       and grins, he points
 and scolds, the night
is a song of blue branches, he shrugs
                     and keeps walking,
 the moon rises and the moon falls
     in the confession of sleeping hills,
             does he understand, does he
  offer an accounting, the book
       of names, the man who confesses
 that he doesn’t read, is he
  a stick and a joke, the moonlight
  touches the sheet on the child’s bed,
           the night is a dream
                     of trills and shadows,
    the man who doesn’t know how
              to count the starlight, the voices
     of children frighten him, does he
 point and laugh heh-heh heh-heh heh-heh,
 does he stand outside the national guard
  armory on saturday evening handing out
                        religious literature,
     the tan stone walls the vaulted ceiling
          the dusty streets under the smoky
     shadows of the grain mills
                                down along the river,
who is this man, does he understand
     the night, does he know
    that we are watching all through
            the night, when he bucks
      the bronco of history, when
      he snows down death on the ancient city,
        the president pirate, the king
                of cuckoos, does he
  make like mister funny guy, mister
          leave it to beavis
                            maynard g whillikers
watching tv does he point and laugh
         hey dick your name is dick
                               heh-heh heh-heh heh-heh
         does he understand that we
               are watching, the night whispers
           across the world and we are watching,
         does he understand, in his frenzy
            and his lightning, his stumble
                       and his stupor, his nights
            of ice and his days of fire,
           that his days and nights will
                                                 come to an end,
            that we are here, we gather and carry
          our strength together, we are the builders
                      of the days and the keepers
                                                     of the nights,
          that we work and we wait
            and we watch, we are watching
                           all through the night,
      the sowers of our commune of
                                        earthly carnations,
        and when morning comes
                              we will be ready.