It's the kind of night
An ill-wish could take flight,
like a darkling arrow
Where leaves and fronds make
come-hither rustlings,
and choke you down to the dark cold earth
to nourish their roots
The moon is a suspended yellow eye
half-lidded, watching with sinister intent
Though all the dogs are silent
their suppressed howls prickle
along your skin.
A night to watch your step.