Andouni

The child relaxes As the home fires are lit And all the night lies outside. Fades the fields, the grain, But dares not reach its bony fingers out, To touch the fire. Sit down my young friend. Winds are chill and chafe around you, Howl as if their hungry questions, Will not cease upon the shutters of the windows, Windows that close out the night. But I —– Can not see the lights that call you. Call you from the darkness in, They evade my desperation. And all are home, Aware that the darkness closes upon me. But will not come out for fear, For fear that I am too corrupted, By the night, and can not see them. But morning does come to the outer world, And as I spend my nights upon the fields, Their fears would be confirmed, For never will I near their houses or call their names, I am dead to their intentions. I am homeless.

March 10, 1978