The Hunt

A smooth mirror throws back the light
given by the silent
moon
The reflections are held fast by magnets
No
movements stir the surface of the lake
In the crown of the
giant trees
An owl calls to his prey
only a scared
flurry in the brush
betrays the mouse in his flight

he has no desire to accept this invitation


away in the distance a wolf calls harshly

to his pack
even here you can feel the excitement

of the hunt
lay your ears on the breast of mother
Earth
and listen
The rhythm of running feet holds
pace
With the quickening of the pulse
An orgasm of
life flows through the waiting
Contented, in spite of the
death screams
the night settles in her clinging darkness

The dawn stirs in her dreaming
and sighs and all is
well with the world