Twilight falls onto my
  windowsill

Demon fire in full
  retreat

The stars return
  glowing embers that burn

In whose radiance
  an Angel will sleep

Days grip is unchained,
  the cantor sings while he prays

As the chorus cries out
  “It’s unplugged”

The sun has now left
  with my hopes not bereft

Only the night
  —points to heaven above

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)