from
dry thick beds above the ground
line
up at storm doors exiting
with
swollen eyes—pajamaed, gowned
sleepers
from behind the wall
shedding
layers of wool and cotton
left
like dead skins where they fall
chanting
rituals forgotten
listening
for the call to leave
dead
nests, anoint with earth’s sweet blood
come
forth celebrants receive
embrace
of air and kiss of mud.