hungry we eat the darkness

and become darkness.   

darkness does not abide dogs in church

there they are fed scraps of colour

and are satisfied.

they lie in the sun, scratch for fleas, 

know their own,

and hunt, in packs, at night.

trees freeze at their passage

and each blade of grass

bends close to the earth.

what they eat becomes holy.

becomes night.  only with light 

do we see who we are —

how far we have come, 

how much further,

and where, to go

before a life closes  

and we faint

for the lack of food.   

but, for now, 

and here

we have

what we need

for the journey