At the Foot of the Night

We’ll assemble it here;
At the foot of the night.
The amber backfire.

We’ll gather holy dust;
When all tunnels have lost
A sun’s far-off song.

We’ll hear the glassy howl
One late whirlwind tail.
While mirrors bowed yawn.

We’ll assemble it here;
At the foot of the night.
With a sound like ours in flight.