A boy’s bed upon the ground,
I stared at stars and wondered
if I was worth keeping alive
as I slept, if I could trust
the darkness to hold me
safe until morning—
looking up through
all the bright holes
of a rusty bucket sky,
connecting dreams
with a greater light
beyond the night—
I drew lines in the sky,
played dot-to-dot
instead of counting sheep.
drycrikjournal 