sleeping
in woods,
make
a cathedral of the moonlight
that
reaches you, and lie down in it.
Shake
a box of nails
at
the night sounds
for
there is comfort in your own noise.
And
say out loud:
somebody
at sunrise be distraught
for
love of me,
somebody
at sunset call my name.
There
will soon be company.
But
if the moon clouds over
you
have to live with disapproval.
You
are a traveler,
you
know the open, hostile smiles
of
those stuck in their lives.
Make
a fire.
If
the Devil sits down, offer companionship,
tell
her you’ve always admired
her
magnificent, false moves.
Then
recite the list
of
what you’ve learned to do without.
It
is stronger than prayer.