Ethereal Moments The Poetry of Donavon Scott Vinson
Wild Night
I idly sit upon my creaky old camp stool
stirring the simmering pot of my dinner.
I gaze up at the shimmering snow covered
purple mountains as they rise toward the
awesome blues,reds, and fiery oranges of
the setting sun, and listen intently to
the sounds of the night as I taste the
sweetness of the wonderfully crisp air.
In the distance the dark emerald forest
awakens to the deep shadows of the night.
The eerie silence becomes filled with weird
haunting sounds of the screech owls as they
invade the skies in search of their dinner.
Wolves begin to sing their song of mourning
to the brilliant stars above,and a bear bellows
hungrily from a distant cave,as the cougars
chilling screams lash out at the serene night.
In the lush,dense undergrowth of the forest
floor rabbits fearfully seek refuge,and squirrels
slip into the safety of their nests,as the birds
stop their beautiful singing for the day,and fly
up into the dark branches of the evergreens.
Under the cool light of the bright harvest moon
bats begin to prowl the skies in search of rodents
and other delicious delights as the foxes shake
their bushy red tails,and yelp in anticipation of
the night's hunt.
I lean back in my stool awed by the wonderful
sounds of the night,and think how lucky they are
to be so free, and unencumbered by the worries
of living in the society of men.
Donavon Scott Vinson
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