Good Night Poem by Bengt O Björklund

Intractable fears of tumbling tomorrow
changed direction at the melting-point
where as I, as it were, wrecked all potential
of a lame and toothless future to plummet
into pools of poor joint consideration.

I am the wild wily dilly
that bleeds into the weary night,
too bold to be daft or even stale,
too rapt to pale or in any event fold.
I am the shift change from cruel tears
into a good night dear See you.