Reading Late at Night

Got the jimmy-leg tonight,
can't keep them still.
So I get up and shuffle around the house.
Maybe it's the full moon
(which always agitates me).
shining in the window
and projecting bright rhomboids
on the dining room floor
for my viewing pleasure.
Finally, I sit in the bathroom and
read Olav Hauge poems
under the night light
until I've found some measure of peace.
When I get up to go back to bed,
things have changed:
staring at the pages of the book
has left me night blind -
The roughly rendered charcoal
features of the rooms
are completely obscured
under ink-black shrouds.
The moonlight,
through the window
and on the floor,
now just a pale version
of its former self.