Walking the dog. October. Wind and night.

the dog is wild from howl of air

is there an older science there

of storm waking the earth

the trees

writhe free

their naked branches part like strands of old man's hair

in the thick moonlight

stiff grasses stand aright

something breathes upon neck nape

the pond looks deep around the willow bends

the water and the wind conspire with sky

old moon

iris of misty diadem

the ruler of the night she looks

and yea to water walk

how shall you stop, the path shines on

and out. the wind: true men

in bravery step out. how crisp this birth.

how waxed like fat moon apples

bright from otherside shine streetlights. how all about

the trees like old hands shake. everything is reaching.