I am looking for you, my friends
and that is why
I sing of the hollow ground.
The wind carries my thin song
through the stones
stones of cairn, barrow
and forsaken wood,
the scrub brush of the divide.
The sharp tinder scent of night
gives an answer,
silent and long, the end of song.
Rachel Westfall
January 26, 2011
A Little Scribble and an Honorable Mention
13 hours ago
3 comments:
I know the coyote
and his kin.
They are tricksters,
all of them.
Do not be seduced
by his howling on the wind.
It is deception.
True, it is carried
past rock and tree,
scrub brush, and
snow line.
It is his invitation
to dinner,
with you as
the main
course.
Oh, you are right, Miss Sadie. Trust a poodle to straighten me out. So eloquently, too!
A good totem to have. :)
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