It’s quiet now, she’s come and gone
without a sound, spent the night
without a word as we slept
deeply by the fire. She kept it dark
without the stars, hid the pregnant moon
that shed the rain lightly through the clouds.
We don’t know her name, shy goddess—
but we will leave the light on
with pomegranate jelly at the door.
– – – – –
0.63″ plus bugs