after juniper blessing
Count blessings
like
buzzards
in the sky
above you.
Count roadsigns
on the way
out of town.
Count your gifts
in groups of three
or they may slip
through your
outstretched
hands.
Walk with your head
high
and do not look
behind you
until you look
behind you.
Count a blessing
on the side of
the road.
One for sorrow,
two for mirth,
a thousand blessings,
buried under
foreign names.
Give them an inch
and they will steal
the ground
beneath your feet.
Give them an inch
and they will
stab you twenty-eight,
forty-five,
three hundred
times.
Count your blessings.
Count your fingers
while you bleed.
Count yourself lucky.
Now count
all of them,
all of them,
every one that ran out
of blessings
too
soon.
Tell me when you run
out of
vultures.
Tell me when the
carrion
is too heavy to
carry in
your teeth.
Tell me when I'm
rotten.
Tell me when I
taste good.
Tell me when
it's okay
to look
behind
me.
