“What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? / The world would split open.”
Poet Muriel Rukeyser

Monday, January 11, 2010

A Late Afternoon Winter Walk

























photo from flickr fotos: Arizona desert museum coyote


The sun on its descent to the other side
caused deep shadows, sharply angled
to fall from the trees and houses
across the street and sidewalk

My dogs, leashed with anxious noses in the air
ears pricked, move in harmony with
wagging tails and lively steps
prance down the street for a walk

The air, still warm though winter, harsh desert sun
a gentle breeze hints of the chill
that sneaks in when darkness falls
turning the bird bath to ice

Our walk is brisk, so little day light remains
Up the hill turn around and down
up another round the curve
shadows deepen bush rustles

Quail families out for dinner all in a line
and then the coyote one, two
the entire den wakes and
cries their eerie wake-up call

Just over there, the coyote family hidden
by scrub trees, thickets, cacti
Quick, I tell the dogs as the
wind carries the cry away


(In Arizona one pronounces coyotes in two syllables Ki-otes, not the three syllable, Ki-yo-tee, of the Midwest)

Monday Morning Musings

Ok. So it's not morning anymore. But it is still Monday. And I am still musing. I'll let you know what I come up with....