Where in daytime nothing is

by A. Pseudonym

I had imagined what it must be like

out there in the middle place

where in daytime nothing is

what it must be like at night:

there, far from my bed, 

maybe something moves


for rocks in the dark

and calling crows alone

in the empty midnight field

will stay your legs if you stop

Stagger to the trees

for through them is your house

though in them is the wild dog who

is small enough to be kicked away

but runs in livid packs