Walked into the woods, I did,
And slept beneath the rain.
Thank the crows for tents and trees
And the racoon, all the same.
Like a cat in the dark with lamps for eyes,
It crept until I grew wise.
Then the music stopped.
Jaw harp silenced, twanging hand stilled.
My heart leaped, it did–utterly thrilled.
An audience for my eleventh hour display,
A camping concert, the one-woman way.
Though, my banded friend stayed but briefly,
Perhaps, to join in its own… band–
Taking the performance someplace else.
The magic lost, the nightly crickets somehow off
Tempo, I packed up my tool of trade,
Closed its case–bidding it take the final bow–
And let the midnight hour linger.
*I’ve been a month away. I had adventures and introspection, bursts of creativity and an odd dread… turning away from my blog. My adventure, though fun, drained me I think. It’s hard to express why I could not write and let others read. I am back home now, in more than just the physical sense. I find myself becoming centered, again. And so, I use poetry to tell a true tale! A racoon tried to sneak upon me (and the garbage bag suspended from a tree limb) while I was playing music at night during a camping trip. They really do prowl like cats.*