TONIGHT WHEN I WENT OUT TO SHUT THE CHICKENS IN, DARKNESS ENVELOPED ME. I think the moon is still waning some from full, but the cloud cover snuffed all illumination from the sky. No moon, no stars. I hope you'll pardon the cliché when I tell you I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. I tried it: held my hand out in front of my face and after a moment or two I could see a ghostly outline of a hand, pale grey in the inky blackness, but I could have imagined it. It was raining a little, but fairly warm for December, and I worried some about tripping on the way out to close up the coop, but didn't go back for a flashlight. I felt what was left of the soft mulch pile under my feet—not so much a pile anymore, but a cushioned layer at the end of the lane—and hoped I was walking in the direction of the coop. I held my hand out, feeling for chicken wire, and was almost there before I saw the faint outline of the galvanized tin roof and heard the soft chuckle of the flock settling in for the night. I stood for a moment appreciating the velvet dark.
|A short walk to many places|
Travel in Beauty; Recite Peace; Blessed Be.
|I let the poetry take me to other worlds....|
|The poems were ephemeral--made of breath...|