This week’s writer of the week is Kathy Low for her beautiful evocation of a night walk that is so much more than a night walk – is filled with the sights, sounds, smells of the darkness, but as with all Kathy’s work, says so much more than it says. Well done, Kathy!
of the night… by Kathy Low
of the night…
“I went out to help the night”, the scream urgent, clear, summoning me.
Stealthy, softly on suburban street.
Alert. The dark hindered by lamp light,
gibbous moon low in the south east, faint stars and an aspect of Venus…
The night enfolded me.
On the wasteland, untended these times and the thistles thigh high
proper purple heads soft on the palm…. shadow moves and silent
black cat leaps a garden wall.
Night scented stock,
elusively familiar, and the mindtaste of brambles in a closeby thicket.
A bustling rustle in the undergrowth and I stop, watchful,
a touch of adrenalin offers. Ancient instinct written in DNA.
Sudden scream again and this time a response,
the sharp bark some distance away towards the park.
Later I head slowly home, occasionally stopping just to be,
to breathe of the darkness.
In the distance the call of a tawny owl!
Did I hear the answer too….faint, subliminal… sublime?
A memory…“the owl of life calls out to coax you to his tree of dreams…”
….and the night helped me….