they
say the pueblo people snare moon dogs
in golden filaments and wear
their luminous pelts to dance in
their lunar mystery rites when the
big shiny glows like a big silver
dollar across the southern desert them moon dogs hunt the dark in
packs their howls fill the
night air eerie as spirit songs
on the breezing they paint the
joshua trees large and the
desert lupines aquatic frost them
moon dogs cavort like ghosts and
caterwaul in the inky the last truly
wild creatures in the last truly wild country when the sky falls on the land and we are sunk under her mystic woven
blanket them moon dogs chase their
tails round the angles
in-between their shadows and our
dreams
.
so weird to come here and find this piece - i was just over at a friend's blog where she was talking about a "lone wolf" type dog - actually a domesticated wolf - at the local doggie park - and went on to liken the dogs there to the different political factions in this country - and i remarked about the kiowa chief "lone wolf" - and here i find the kiowa people snaring moondogs in golden filaments! very neat piece - i know what you mean about rushing to put the words down that seem to demand immediate attention! ;)
ReplyDeleteAh, synchronicity strikes again Gypsywoman. I seem to get ideas at the most inopportune moments - like when I'm about to fall asleep, or when I'm bathing, or I'm miles away from home. Sometimes it's just as I awaken, as with this piece, and I have to get the words down quickly before thinking starts to mutate the words.
ReplyDelete