-by Wallace Blue


On winter nights

I lie awake while the

Moon shines through the window

And the hoot owl beckons me

To join him.

I consider it,

Then pull the covers tight

Against the cold.


In Spring I'm tempted

to join the Whippoorwill

In the meadow on his

All night vigil.

Then I hear the coyotes'

Howl echo from the hollow

Where the creek runs cold,

And reconsider.


I listen to the

Metallic whine of the cicadas

On hot summer nights

And watch as the night breeze

Billows the curtains back and forth

Above my head while

The leak stains on the ceiling

Metamorphose into shapes and animations.


In autumn, close to

Halloween, the wind blows

Brittle leaves upon my window;

A premonition of the

Winter chill.

And as the house creaks

Against the wind's coercion,

I wonder if sleep will ever come again.

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