page 140

At Home

I've fed the crows their morning milk.
(They're moving closer to my but
each day.) A stray cat
passed in the dark. (It drained
the hedgehog's water-dish
before drifting on to better things
or the hope of them.) Last night
even the stars came closer,
feeding on my midnight gaze. By day
ants that battle for my fallen crumbs
are just as numerous ... while, camped indoors,
fat moths chew holes in my public robes
and build their homes in damp forgotten furs.