Church

Quiet and quiet still

Under the pine I build the altar
leave a prayer for something wild,
leave an offering, listen for the first
star, say goodnight to the birds
set the camera on the soft needles
of the pine hoping to catch a god,
a night dwelling sprite or just a hungry,
being wandering through the yard.

Then six pictures (and in five shots) close and closer
and then just to the edge clearly: the fox.
Accepting the offering, sharing the darkness
with the ghost house and the streetlight.
The quiet night quiet still. Offering accepted.
Prayer answered. And then, the sixth picture
the last, the night dwelling sprite, her mask and
ringtail prominent, too late for the snack
desecrating the altar, knocking the camera
down, no worship here.