in the cabin green my legs were resting within the
sleepingbag on the floor (parents had the bed) i drifted
then drifted back when the door knocked i saw
the night and the night said "let's go" and we went
to wherever the night went when they woke.
down the steps white-painted wood to
the pit where a fiery group coalesced into flames
the amalgamation was chanting stories of disembodied hands
that grab the ankles of unsuspecting campers (i flinched) then
the night lead me, with their starry hand, to bales of hay
which i stacked into a staircase forgoing the horseticks to climb
upon a truck parked overnight -- i wanted to touch
the night but the night, their ethereal moon pointed my way
had to say goodnight and gave way to dawn.