NIGHT DIRECTIONS FOR THE LOST
Turn left when you pass the frog
barking under the pumphouse
and follow alongside the brown bats
dipping low above the pond.
Since all is near-invisible you can name everything.
We will let you give words to the dark.
Call back your memories,
the kasbah in Casablanca,
the fragrant alleys behind the main
where the hookers shot dreams into their arms.
The road that led to where it ended.
Call this a thistleseed, call that a fence.
Call it all the wheel of the world.
Call it the whispering …