nights of screaming owls
and toads
across the pasture
pitted with rodent homes
I pass with lantern
carefully avoiding the
large yawning mouths of earth
the night still burns with day
and the wind has nothing to say
and dry grassy arms
brush my ankles to pin
their seed to my socks
I walk to leave the range
of the yard light
into the shadows
of the arid night
I inhale the spicy infusion
draped in the air
expelled from the sagebrush leaves
their sighing relief in the dark
the screams pull me further
away from my life
these sirens of the night
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