WEBVTT

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"Night Along the Trail."

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As most Western
poets, I've spent

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a lot of time outdoors,
packing, hiking, so forth.

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So I have written
quite a number of poems

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which spring out of
those experiences in one

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way or another.

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This is perhaps one little
lyric of that order.

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"Night Along the Trail."

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Hypocritic dusk.

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Your face concealed
in a cloud of leaves.

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Your eyes a peacock tail.

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Your soft voice a conch
shell echoing tides.

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And in your dark veins, the
deer lured to terrible altars.

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I sit by the trail and
weave a wreath of wild lilac

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and salal to keep me
safe from cougar, snake,

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and those black pools where
sheep of hammered silver sink,

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and that white rider on his
gold horse kneels to drink.

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