Undercover Vagabonds by Elizabeth McLister

We’d steal beneath those pitted cloaks of night,
Outdoors from fence to rails our bedgowns shone,
Never wondering whether we were right
To amble into pregnant brush alone.
So spryly we, wee weetzie bats would sift,
Eyes peeled to pluck some treasure off the tracks.
Discerning clumps of fur and knotted guts,
Pressed coins, touchstones, and bones, and old shoe scraps.
When seeking mystery in daylight hours
The dregs from those excursions left us cold –
So every month we’d rise above feigned sleep
To tramp along the tracks, intrepid-bold.

Before first light sent us to snug cocoons,
We’d stockpile cool caches beneath ripe moons.