Mary went down
to Bethlehem,
bone weary
and riding
on a donkey.
Great with Child,
she did not feel
like the queen
of anything.
While
the constellations,
wheeling
in their courses
like drunken sailors,
shown a little
above her.
And all of us
shuffling
a long road
longing to hear
the morning stars
shout for joy.
