She nails it to the wall.
This will bring him back.
This will guide his mind.
She sees him in the open.
He holds a compass skyward,
turning in all directions.
The clouds confuse him.
They keep his eyes half-closed.
In daytime he stops to sleep.
She sends a herd of horses
stampeding across the sky,
to pull the covering from his bed.
She animates the grass at his feet
to slither against his heels.
He leaps from his stupor.
She denudes the galaxy,
filling one star to the brim:
the flames, the sparks, the spirits
This one light goes to him,
her old dresses are burned for him,
of the well-fed girl that she was.
Look up tonight, she pleads.
Wherever you are, look up.
His silence to her is weakness.
She pulls the wheel from her wall.
She plucks a spoke and thinks,
One less road for him to take.
She doesn't know that he walks
on empty, unmarked highways,
across fields filling with snow.
Copyright © 2004 Andrew Grossman
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Andrew Grossman began the poetry database at www.poeticcopy.com to realize his goal of using poetry to communicate understanding, peace, and caring among people of different religious, cultural, and lifestyle beliefs. The unity between humanity and nature is for him the template for creating unity among all humanity. He lives in Williamsburg, Virginia, with his wife, Nancy Terrell. To contact him, email andrew@poeticcopy.com.