Somewhere a stranger sits on
a hillside.  Somehow a light
shines deep in the night.

The man with the purple face
has three fingers on his hand.
He looks upward, face frozen.

The buzzards have gathered.
Is he dead or alive?   A woman
raises her arms, cries out.

Is she sharing his pain?  Sometimes
it is better not to know.  Another
man sits—in prayer, perhaps.

See Miki’s painting Stranger In the Night