DISCRETION

Wearing only moonglow

          and the fire's final shawls of smoke,

she made her way from the tent

            at 2 a.m., then squatted to pee,

and the heavenly light showed me everything:

            its cool tongues of silver lapping mountain

stones and the never-motionless leaves

            of aspens, licking her back, her hips,

haunches, and more, illuminating even the deep

            green eyes of whatever animal it was

that watched her from the forest then-

            a deer, I believed, and still believe,

though I confess I did not rise that night

            to make sure, did not shine my light or murmur

but waited, letting my head

                as she returned settle slowly back

down to the pillow made of my clothes

               and welcomed her shivering

back into the tent, from which

              I had sworn I would not look.