GR translation: three-foot falls at the edge of sleep

[Mike Jing]

V643.16-27   Each long haircut is a passage. Hair is yet another kind of
modulated frequency. Assume a state of grace in which all hairs were once
distributed perfectly even, a time of innocence when they fell perfectly
straight, all over the colonel’s head. Winds of the day, gestures of
distraction, sweat, itchings, sudden surprises, three-foot falls at the
edge of sleep, watched skies, remembered shames, all have since written on
that perfect grating. Passing through it tonight, restructuring it, Eddie
Pensiero is an agent of History. Along with the reworking of the colonel’s
head runs the shiver-borne blues—long runs in number 2 and 3 hole
correspond, tonight anyway, to passages in the deep reaches of hair, birch
trunks in a very humid summer night, approaches to a stone house in a
wooded park, stags paralyzed beside the high flagged walks . . . .

Does this refer to the falling sensation you sometimes get while falling
asleep, and it wakes you up?  Or is it something else I'm not aware of?
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