I am more human in darkness.
At night I hear things, soft things
in the wind. And I move slowly,
carefully through the house
alone. Sometimes in halfsleep,
I hear my mothers’ voice calling
my name, just once, just that.
And I remember the smiles of dogs.

There is not so much left of me
as you might imagine from my size,
but I am a man when the sun is gone.
Let’s go out, in the dew
and the soft snore of the freeway,
and I will conjure you owls.