In The Hayloft
- You are secret even unto yourself.
- But consider the danger in this—
- whatever distant ceremony surges,
- you are Nowhere. And it is pleasant
- in the hayloft. Migrant sounds climb.
- Bird-ghosts. And work enough to do
- just in dog-earing the casual adventure
- that you led. It was full. Now the hayloft
- is full. Come spring, or the first frail
- trappings of summer, when change
- still seems a blessing, you’ll inhabit
- a near-cathedral, a space of dear
- echoes. For God’s sake hide.
- Find a dim prayer and stay there.