I Look Out With More Longing
by Carol Hamilton

Squirrel dashes through thrash of limbs,
takes shortcut across black wire. The wind
howls while pushing gray sky about.
Blue were the wind sounds at my dawn hike,
I alone on the red canyon rim, a coyote pack
soon joining in chorus. The howl was lost,
was missed when living far away, that childhood
lullaby of the prairie. Though a lonely sound,
it welcomes, is welcoming. Yesterday wore
sunny, still and astonishing dress.
Today wraps me up in home.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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