Dark of the moon... 

	Walking last night with my young dog along a deserted road,
	the stars were so clear we could see by them
	and the air so still we could hear stirrings
	of night creatures in the woods to either side...

			abandoned cemetery... 
			the wind sprites
			restless 
	We could hear the crackle of a neighbor's bonfire and the laughter 
	of a few rowdies... the skush sound of a can of beer and the snort of a joke.
	And off in another direction: the voices of a pair of Cranes
	speaking to each other in quiet tones less than a tenth of how loud a Crane can be. Jack the dog heard them too, and stopped with one paw lifted 
	as he listened carefully to them. I feel that they were just talking softly to each 	other in the dark as couples do.

		reincarnation... 
		as fate would have them
		meet again

	Jack was a city dog before being rescued, and all this is very new to him.
	He knows quite well that the world is a dangerous place, 
	but these new sounds and smells unnerve him 
	because he doesn’t know how dangerous they might be.

		pitch black... 
		the hickory path 
		a chuck-will's-widow

	Further along the road the weird call of the Screech Owl 
	gave me shivers as it always does. We decided to turn back.
	The Screech Owl's calls, a high lonely wavering wail... 
	continued until silenced by four gruff and peremptory woofs
	of a Great Horned Owl.  Those birds are the top of the food chain 
	in our area, and other Owls become very
	circumspect in their presence, for good reason.

		nervous expiration 
		steam mists
		the glasses

	The Horned Owl sent us home with another
	four low tones:  Hoot… Hoot... Hoot-Hoot.
	We walked back in companionable silence.

		under 
		the crisp light
		of stars