For Michael Hogan
on December nights
when the rain we needed
months ago
is still far off and the wind
gropes through the desert
in search of any tree to hold
it
those who live here all year
round
listen to the irresistible
voice of loneliness
and want only to be left
alone
local knowledge is to live in
a place
and know the place
however barren
some kinds of damage
provide their own defense
and we who stay in the ruins
are secure against enemies
and friends
if you should see one of us
in the distance as your
caravan passes
and if he is ragged and
gesturing
do not be mistaken
he is not gesturing for
rescue
he is shouting go away