Deep within Carolina woods
as I lie in my bed,
it’s just the brightest stars,
the squirrel skitter behind my wall,
me being restless.
I’m giving free rein to the meteor,
free rein to the moon,
free rein to each thought
that pops a blizzard growing in my head.
The creek is singing Miley Cyrus.
I can’t get her out,
when on some distant slope
bears begin their lumber through
The thinning ice
cracks a slump of snow,
lets cold water free to catch the moon,
while owl feathers fly through darkness,
and wild white horses arc the sky.
about the author
Kathy B. Austin describes herself as a Buddhist, half-hippie tree-hugger who enjoys biking, Dharma Center activities, artistic pursuits, and talking to crows. Her poems have been published in numerous journals including Mock Turtle Zine, and have been read on Conrad’s WYSO.