Sierra Night

To me in my sleeping bag comes

A star-voice: "Honey, would you like

To go with me-you know, the long

Kiss to the moon and back." "Too deep

And bright and silent," I say, "too many

Pine trees in the sheets.

A man ina bag

Has roots in granite. I'm not a pick up,

Honey; the creek roars under my boulder-

Shoulders, and the bear that I sleep through

Licks up star-ants and makes the darkness darker."