Before Sleep I Go Outside

What is more beautiful than Orion and the stars
seen through the bare limbs of an oak?

What too is more beautiful than winter clouds in a rush
over the face of the moon, when the mind gives way

and the supple body slows, the heart grown ready
to make the experiment: to be lifted and stretched

by measureless new dimensions? All that I have said
and heard recedes, pulled into space where there are no

words, my head quiet and at rest, leaning back
against a corner of the garage, under this night sky

and the far stars where my thirsty eyes drink as from
a pitcher that pours and pours and does not empty.

~ Jeanne Lohmann