A twilit world twitches alert when the dog and I crunch
across mown fields, pointed crisp grass. Dark shapes dip,
dart above trees that leaf up toward them. Deer bound
into the woods, past chrysoprase greens, early mayapple,
sweet woodruff. Hooves whisper over loblolly needles,
amber coats vanish, white tails blinking like fireflies.
That last blaze. Only their ammonia scent remains.
One thick copperhead uncoils, ready to hunt.
Then, indigo sky, no shadows, world flattened.
Owl light.
Later, I brush the dog, his head in my lap,
tell him the story of everything that happened on our walk.
Outside, an ostinato — ululations, hoots.