Night is where the speaker finds what daytime can't offer. The opening rejects the "simple stuff" of orderly daylight and welcomes the "sky of chaos," where the Hale-Bopp comet creeps slowly between the stars. Images from different worlds sit side by side: a clock's hands, a muezzin's call to prayer, the white glare of airport lights smothering a faint apricot glow on the horizon. Time, faith, and modern technology seem to overlap and interfere with one another.
The "dumbells of death like black cherries" are the poem's strangest image. They are held back "from kissing," which suggests something threatening that stays just out of reach. The final stanza turns to the speaker, striding barefoot and boastful, with "ugly toes turned up." It feels playful and unashamed. The closing image, where a shadow in shallow water lets you see the marsh, hints that looking at oneself can reveal the world around.
The mood is dreamlike, odd, and quietly exhilarated, a mix of wonder and bravado.