November 17th, 2009

Some days the clock ticks faster,
Thoughts and deeds and errands and phone calls all pile on top of each other
You end up somewhere later than you would have liked.

The trail stretched enticingly before me laid out in a packed brown dirt ribbon
Boots smacked snow, gravel gritted against the leather grain
Afternoon sun gleamed lower and lower in a late sky
Old railroad ties mark a gate beneath my stride, one by one
On and on I hurry-trudge… marking time because time has hurried so
Hardwood leans over me, topping the trail in a canopy of late November green
I span the concessions in no-time, thoughts leaking from jumble to fresh clarity
Night is falling-fast, all around me, and I have turned to backtrack
Loping the path, car waiting low in its bronze and autumn sheen
The quiet lulling me into content, …silent enjoyment that could not last.

Shrill yelps pierced the air like fresh knives, cutting my thoughts to ribbon shreds
Cries in unison, the pack was out for the early evening hunt, bent on kill
Killing spoke itself into their voices, overlapping, layers shrill in the night air
Squeezing into my heart and my breath and sitting at the edge of my soul
Fresh Cape Breton tragedy news reeling in my mind, freezing my calmness into panic!

I ran
I ran fast and hard, boots smacking strong now, casting all carefulness into survival
Thoughts operated above my head on another level
The coyotes would be out for their evening meal, trained, bent on winning the prize
Swift and lean and strong determination cut the air in energy strands, electric
I could feel them…
The beat of my boots kept time to their never-wavering cries, they would eat
I just hoped it would not be me.

Suddenly their yelps stopped in time to my never-stopping quick steps, on, on
I fervently prayed and hoped in my heart that their prey had been some poor rabbit
And that they were not quietly stalking me, now, getting closer to my heels
In a silence stealthy, cunning, ... my mind told me they would have gotten their kill
But I could not quit until my hand wrenched open my car door and my body sat
Stinging and tired and played out against the welcome softness of the seat
Sighing, the steel ness of the car around me a comfort, cold, protective
The engine purred to life, and the wheels turned around and around
The headlights shone the way through normal traffic,

I was going home.

cailin raine