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Civilization
I,ve stood here lately, looking at the path.
Where deer once came to watch the sun go down.
Standing with their ears pricked for the sound of cars along the street.

I've longed to hear the coyotes call again.
Across the valley, howeling from the hill.
Baying when the night stands black and still.
Where sky and mountains meet.

I've watched for racoons, who crept along the rocks and over fallen wood.
Begging near our windows for some food.
Staring with black-ringed eyes

Lizards, rabbits, snakes and moles.
They came, chewing on poppies, digging up the lawns.
Burrowing homes and holes.
But they have gone.
The mournful owl remembers. So do I.