It was dusk
The moonlight hid it’s flustered face
Mist rose up
From the earth
And met the fog that came raining downward
My shelter was the
Fullest clusters
Of leaves
On the branches
Of an oak tree
On the trunk of the of the oak tree
Was a scattering of gnarled faces
Caterpillars had not yet woken
And still were curled into fragile
Breathing Spirals
With legs that are too many tucked into the
Soft body of the infant worm
Velvet hairs are her sensors
Like the glassy
Orblike eyes that do not close
They slept in
The eye sockets
Of the faces
On the trunk of the oak tree
That withstood the
Storms of fog and mist
