Only two more days to write it then. Rather anemic for a sestina. Lacking a lot, needing help, prayer, succour, and sustenance. It is a night of wind. People arrive having travelled forever to reach this place on the mountain.
People are asleep, and long to sleep.
The wind washes the night with rain. I do nothing and have done all night. I am not sleepy, but listless, dreamless, and I would like to say, witless. People arrive in the night, and I direct them to beds, tell them to sleep. Morning will come too soon otherwise.