The Woman in the Moon

All I am now is pure light.
It spreads its hard
edges over the dark of my
nights and my turnings.

It touches my dust
settled to the depth of secrets
but names my places.
I am seen from afar.

I am the bright one
who must light the way
for the lost traveler now.
I am the one who must

point the way through
the sleeping tread of dreams.
I must comfort the roofs
and gardens where they

crouch in awe of darkness,
and I must hear what
curls up and weeps softly
in the bramble of shadows,

the birds of small bones,
worms and insects that
live without nails or teeth.
I must look now and listen

for the creeping evil that
licks its quick tongue, and
say to them all, sleep,
dark harm is not coming yet.

*Sue Owen, the former Poet-in-Residence at LSU, is the author of four books of poetry: NURSERY RHYMES FOR THE DEAD, THE BOOK OF WINTER, MY DOOMSDAY SAMPLER, and the forthcoming THE DEVIL'S COOKBOOK (LSU Press, 2007). She now lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts with her husband.