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.