I need to remember to carry my camera absolutely everywhere here.
The Black Wind
Did he know I was alone? That I was lonesome for companionship such as his?
Did he know that soon, very soon, two will threateningly answer his call?
I heard, I responded, and off he ran, black wind shifting through the grass.
I called and whistled, clucked and snapped but he did not return until
later, enchanted by a mountain sunset, I glimpsed the black wind beneath
my truck. I called and whistled, and he mewed just a bit, a nod of acceptance,
he curled dry from the coming storm, warm and safe.
How did he know where to come? How did he know I needed him?