It is Labor Day in the US where we celebrate having a job.
Here is a rerun from my early blogging.
I'm taking the day off.
Have a great fall day (or spring day south of the equator.)
Summer memories are warm and sweet. I wanted to share a poem even while fearing once I let it out I will be unable to ever outdo it in feeling and depth of myself immersed therein.
Coyote Night by Mary Gerdt * 2008 all rights reserved
When we walk down a road in the dark,
And the Coyotes are crying their mournful cry,
The smells of summer drift and hang in the valley
And little night birds chirp goodnight.
The stars peek out from the clouds of August mist
The moon hangs over the hills by home.
My memories fade to days gone by
When we looked at the nights from inside.
Now we walk on the path outside
Not afraid anymore.
While the coyotes cry.
Hi Mary,
ReplyDeleteLike your poem, wish we lived in the ccountry where I could hear a coyote.
Love,
Herrad
Hi Herrad,
ReplyDeleteThe coyote song is eerie, intense and mournful. You feel like they are just outside the back door and sometimes they are.The down side is they killed a neighbor's calf and can have rabies.Thanks for stopping by.
Love,
Mary
Hi Mary,
ReplyDeletePlease go to my blog and pick up your award.
Love,
Herrad