The prairie rings with strange voices, this Wolf Moon
is owned by coyotes, less visible by day in dry winter
grass but the pond ice is covered with tracks come
morning. No lanky solo song, mating season means
the frozen air is wild with prairie carolers who wail a
primal scale of notes, yip the flats and sharps all night,
a challenge dance on glare ice, as horses watch safe
behind fences. Inside the house, my dog hears the
coyote call from deep slumber, launching into mid-air,
his legs scrambling before his eyes are open, crashing
the door jam, toenails screaming on linoleum until the
dog door slams. Then stock still, bark silent, he lifts
his nose to the night air. Is it something sacred that
he can’t quite recollect? Walking back slowly, he curls
into a soft fleece bed under the desk, watching me as
his eyes close, that’s right, we’re house dogs now.
…
Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Horse Advocate, Author, Clinician, Equine ProBlog/FB/Email/Author/FB/Tweet/Amazon
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Love this corgi poem. Thank you.
Thank you, Carrie. Not so wild anymore…
Love.
Thanks!
Ditto for house cats. I have noticed as they have matured, they are not as intense as they gaze out the window at what was once their prey.
Me either. Thanks, Lynell.
I don’t know which is more meaningful for me, Anna – that gorgeous photo or the absolutely perfect description of the Corgi dashing out of bed and outside! Both will be favorites from now on! Bowing to the wolf moon and its captive species …
Pandemonium on the prairie… Thanks, Cheri.
The dogs, like we humans, hold onto sacred knowledge, deep in their bones. <3
We remember a wild time, then we go to bed. Thanks, Valery.
A thing I call “genetic memory”
Beautiful and made me smile. Thank you.
You’re welcome!
Oh, this is another super good one! I really like it. Thank you for “Corgi Moon”.
Tara Boyce First Edition Farm [email protected]
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I love coyote carolers..deep into the night. =-)
I’m sure there aren’t as many as it sounds like… Thanks, Deb.
Thanks, Tara. Especially!
I woke to the coyote howling in the wee hours on our ridge. Our dogs took no mind of the chorus, as they slumbered deeply, held tightly by their soft beds.
Wolf Moon was hidden by curtain and by cloud, but the song was clear and clean in the night!
You give me joy and inspiration, Anna!
Thanks, Jan… it is that time of year!
Wonderful. We all remember……And Will know how to respond when it’s needed.
Yup. Thanks, Annie.
I love it! Thanks Anna, always inspiring.
You’re welcome, Louise.