Excerpt from "In the painted desert" from
Wishes On The Edge of Time
I rolled up into a sleeping bag in
the cold, snuffling to myself and staring up
at the roof of the sky over me, stars peeping
back as timid as galloping jack rabbits
hightailing it away afraid of my cloaked
feet moving under the bag liner.
Later, I stuck my overly-warm feet into
the cold air to cool them off,
unzipping the edge of
the quilted bag.
The stars grew bolder when they
saw that I was falling asleep, as if they had been speaking to me from far away.
silent hounds who moved their mouths,
but emitted no noise due to the distance,
gradually getting larger and closer
to me like the curious gentle coyote.
The moon blew open the heavy darkness
and skittered across the sand
like a frightened beige spider with
long pale legs.
Copyright c 2016, Cathy Smith