God Is a Question

To walk, drive, hunt, fish, cook, drink, smoke, write.
Driving into the woods I felt that
Old and curious calm, and this time

I knew it would last, as I was done
With lasting myself. This was the calm
Of the thief who will never be found,

The calm that passeth understanding
Of those who punish themselves with guilt
Even when guilt-sniffing dogs miss them.