The Moon At Poetry Jam

As the moon 

Pulls the tide
It seeks
My blood
Causing it to rise
And boil
With the call
Of lunacy.

I howl
The moon smiles
Knowing the pull of years
Continues in the blood
Of my blood
Howling
We sing to the moon
Bathed in her light.

For Poetry Jam and the moon.

I Tried To Shoot The Moon...

as the geese, flying south, called to me in the early night.  The amazing V formation as they crossed the moon had me wishing I could capture the beauty and the sound of their flight. Only in my mind, did I capture it, tucking the memory away to bring out, like a good book, and revisit the wonder of it.

The coyotes were active last night and their voices echoed through the leafless trees as they pursued their night's meal. I heard them run along the cedar glade where deer were grazing earlier.  As I called my husband to hear their song, they grew silent.  I continued to listen, in the cold night, and imagined their path.  As they picked up their prey trail again, they sang to the night, crossing the creek and following the old road up the hill...and then silence.  The silence left me wondering, were they successful in their hunt or did they search for another main course.

While listening, I was warm and lost in the moment but as the night sounds left, the cold crept in.  I returned to the warmth and shut the door on the night.