When You Can See the Stars from Bed

And don’t feel cold,
And aren’t in pain,
And aren’t half starved,
Or worn so thin

You risk a slide
Through the thread count,
Not to be found—
Then, then you’re good.

There’s not one thing
Else to dread then,
Not one you should.
Those are the stars—

You can see them.
You can be warm.
You can sleep then,
Fiend in your den.