Songs of the Night Wind

Bend low again, night of summer stars.
So near you are, sky of summer stars,
So near, a long arm man can pick off stars,
Pick off what he wants in the sky bowl,
So near you are, summer stars,
So near, strumming, strumming,
  So lazy and hum-strumming.

Give me hunger,
O you gods that sit and give
The world its orders.
Give me hunger, pain and want,
Shut me out with shame and failure
From your doors of gold and fame,
Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!

But leave me a little love,
A voice to speak to me in the day end,
A hand to touch me in the dark room
Breaking the long loneliness.
In the dusk of day-shapes
Blurring the sunset,
One little wandering, western star
Thrust out from the changing shores of shadow.
Let me go to the window,
Watch there the day-shapes of dusk
And wait and know the coming
Of a little love.

First I would like to write for you a poem to be shouted 
in the teeth of a strong wind.
Next I would like to write one for you to sit on a hill 
and read down the river valley
on a late summer afternoon, 
reading it in less than a whisper to Jack on his soft
wire legs learning to stand up and preach, Jack-in-the-pulpit

As many poems as I have written to the moon 
and the streaming of the moon
spinners of light, 
so many of the summer moon and the winter moon
I would like to shoot along to your ears for nothing, 
for a laugh, a song,

for nothing at all,
for one look from you,
for your face turned away
and your voice in one clutch
half way between a tree wind moan
and a night-bird sob.
Believe nothing of it all, pay me nothing, 
open your window for the other
singers and keep it shut for me.
The road I am on is a long road 
and I can go hungry again like I have gone
hungry before.
What else have I done nearly all my life than go hungry and go on
singing?

Leave me with the hoot owl.
I have slept in a blanket listening.
He learned it, he must have learned it
From two moons, the summer moon
And the winter moon
And the streaming of the moon spinners of light.

Gather the stars if you wish it so.
Gather the songs and keep them.
Gather the faces of women.
Gather for keeping years and years.
And then ...
Loosen your hands, let go and say good-by.
Let the stars and songs go.
Let the faces and years go.
Loosen your hands and say good-by.