I have traveled hundreds of miles
to spread my sleeping bag in this empty field.
I have watched a crescent floating overhead,
a wooden cradle on the river.
I have left the war-torn terror of the city
to listen to the wind soothing the grass
on a crisp night in September
in a new century.
I have traveled so far
for a fleeting moment of peace
in starlit sleep,
charmed, beckoning …
The ground pillows my head,
the sky blankets me.