The wind tells stories
 
while stones and foxes listen
 
and the stars keep watch.

Number

 
 
 

Twelfth night of the year—
 
the moon’s gone into hiding,
 
so I number stars.

Waking

 
 

Waking at midnight,
 
lovers ever so gently
 
comb stars through their hair.

Rising

 
 
 

rising too early
 
even before the rooster
 
swallows all the stars

Sing

 
 
 

long before daybreak
 
hoping that the great horned owl
 
will sing to the stars

Shoes

 
 
 

The girl with blue shoes
 
leaves them outside the back door
 
to play with the stars.

Swish

 
 
 

night of the new moon
 
the swish of a scythe slicing
 
through fields of ripe stars