A few weeks north of Halloween

When the veil twixt here and netherworld thins.

A faint new moon, dark in its life, set awhile ago.

There’s a brief coyote chorus,

Intense and primal.

Echoing through a broad river valley

It’s not repeated.

In the loess canyon just over his shoulder

An ancient limb cracks and tumbles and startles to the ground.

Rising from campfire-pondering to investigate,

Leaves dampen the vision stalker

As he steps into darkness,

Seduced by her secrets.