As they often do at dusk
When the wind pushes the chimes,
Calling to them.
The dogs sense them first,
Spotting movement and large shadows
Moving through the brush.
Barking doesn't startle the musk hogs
Though they pause to consider the attention.
They scurry quickly, following each other,
Staying close to the pack.
I call my wife who joins me on the deck.
We take turns finding them.
Is that a tree or . . .
As it grows darker we notice a small figure,
A baby that appears lost,
Trailing the rest.
My wife comes closer, touching, worried.
Over there, she says,
As if the animal can understand her urging.
Where's the mother?
The wind changes direction and it's
Too dark to see them.
Still, we stand against the rail,
Against the night,
Comforting each other.
© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo by Alan Vernon
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