The curtained moon throws
golden patches across a dense dark
as a lonely dog opens his heart
and howls his baritone line
under the coyote pack’s
falsetto cries that rise and fall
into yips and baby barks.
Night weaves it all together.
with the choral ode of frogs
and the far, far away whinny
of someone’s horse and farther
off into the vastness of so much more
that we can’t hear.
Wonderful wandering to so much more.
ReplyDeleteWonderful, Lorna.
ReplyDelete