Sunset, Sunrise.

The atmosphere is constantly being barraged by meteoric material.

During the day we only see blue skies and white clouds.
It's only after dark that we can see what sunshine suppresses.
We can see meteorites-- "shooting stars." They trace blazing holes in the deep-sea-blue-blackness of night.

In this hour, even my stay-up-late friends are tucked in.
I'm tired, but sleep does not come.
There is so much unvisited material. Unnamed systems. Secret satellites orbiting hidden bodies. Even their trajectories tease of mysteries.

The thoughts I stifle during the day have little competition now.
I feel their constant, burning volley and I trace the holes they leave.
I'll wake up without memory or evidence of punctured consciousness. The balm of morning and noise of day will avert my attention.

They slow the bombardment like a lake slows speeding bullets.