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Flames dance,
embers fly,
raindrops singe,
the campfire cries.
Howls rise up over the wind’s refrain,
A low growl barks,
A pack proclaims.
Children laugh,
Flashlights bob and glow,
Distant tires thunder down the road.
Clouds dash and weep,
A full moon sleeps.
All things creep and grow bolder in the dark.
The night flaps her wings,
Screech goes the wild things.
A low growl barks
In my beating heart.

by S’zanne Reynolds

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