It was mid-winter eve,
that time of year when children
are freed from regular routines,
and high desert nights
are deceptive -- clear, no moon, snowless,
but bitter cold -- so frozen
no one can any longer believe in the coming
of another summer.
Chipmunk and cottontail
disappeared
early into what l8ittle warmth
the earth offered this year.
Deer and bighorn sheep moved
to ever lower ground for food,
while hawk and raven deserted
traditional nests
for warmer homes.
The cacophony started
with yarded canines two blocks east
where civilization ends.
There was Rusty at the first house
off the frontier. Then Ace
took up the alarm, followed by
Bear and Napoleon. Finally,
Cassandra and Lady Midge were consumed
in the frenzied bark that would not be stilled.
The gray sauntered mid-street.
As he passed each gated dog
they backed away and an eerie stillness
took the air.
He stopped. Yellow eyes
surveyed the almost-deserted street
and locked onto domesticated
brown ones.
He sniffed the air.
