I let a cloud into the house, 

One early autumn night,

The room was dim and grey---

Moonlight seemed to fight,

Its way through, but then was tired.

It breathed upon the ceiling,

And caused mine to be labored.

I fumbled towards the window,

And discovered it wide awake,

Ushering Vincent Van Gogh,

To paint a smeary image,

Of my cluttered home,

That would not be too vivid.

Because of my forgetfulness,

To close all of the windows,

Oh, my haunting vagueness!

I let a cloud into the house.