I made my bed beside the railroad tracks
laying down as the deer
in their wild and grassy places
and folded my hands
as if in prayer.
I made my bed beside the white clay road
banished from your call
as lost as any dog.
who can count the ways
I was unmade that night?
still the wheels of the road
rumbled close
always turning
like mother to child.
the train cried.
I felt its vibration in the earth.
it was no more than
the nighthawks passing over me,
like smoke rising.
the lights of the cars on the highway
to my drowning eyes
seemed globes – spirits
rising to heaven
wait, I cried - wait
can you blame me?
there was nothing left of me but tears
but words whispered in prayer.
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