cs, the poem of the dream and the poem as dream, Nightfall Marginalia abandons diurnal constraint as it flickers through lyric and narrative, abecedarian, OuLiPo, prose poem, and parallax view. Twilit, autumnal, narrowly perched between elegy, eros, prayer and grimoire, here, the tangible-the sensate-becomes an entrance even to barely perceptible mystery, whether nearing the threshold of Hypnos or seeking the solace of a liminal dawn. Evocative, intricate, reverent and gorgeous and newly strange, these poems mark a new level of accomplishment for poet Sarah Maclay.