Eight Blog Post. October 17th, 2019. Thursday. Blog Post #8

Rain fall—

The silky sweeps of needle leaves

and moonlight choked by clouds.

I’ve always guessed the dogs could hear

the trees all sing aloud.

When coyotes call their last tattoo,

I know I’ll soon be home

The out-spilt light from windows small

sink soft into the loam.

A house is meek when it’s enwrapped

in sodden chills and gales

but once inside, the walls and wool

forget the outside wails

So now I stand a world apart

without my breath, fast beating heart

The chilling rain and bitter winds

bite deep into my aching limbs

I reach the door and stand in place

to tumble into heat’s embrace

The oaks and pines will flail about

the chipmunks know to crawl

The mud it seems has drunk too much

—rain fall