Waiting for the late ferry from Cythaera
The drowsy nymphs congregate
Collecting memories until they can afford
A reputable second-tier dream.
Once on board, they sit together
Gossiping about Great Chthulu, whom they knew
When he was poor and glad to run errands
For noctambules and their pale keepers.
One by one the nymphs fall silent and the steward
Wraps their dream around them.