Monday, August 11, 2008


magic is found here;
watching naming unfolding
before our deep-struck eyes.

a squirrel beside the path
holding an edible mushroom
much larger than her head,
barely seen as we fly by
on our dog-powered bicycles;

a coyote in the bushes
tawny and sun-speckled
following us along our path,
curious, standing golden now
at the top of the hill;

her harsh call, strong and close
and a distant answer, sung high;

a shower of meteors
moving across the sky in
winking response to our
call, the flick of a wrist,
glitter-sparkled wand in hand.

Rachel Westfall
August 11, 2008

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