New Poems "Night Hike" and "On Losing a Dog" Published in North Dakota Quarterly

Night Hike

You do not know the woods

Til you’ve wandered them at night

I go there at dusk

So my eyes will adjust to the slowly dying light

I hug the lake when I practice this

I’ve learned to step my feet high

The dressage of navigating rocky paths,

In this I must resemble some awkward horse

Half prance, half stumble

I never bring a light

I would forget to see the forest,

My friends do not approve of this

They mention coyotes and the psychopaths, the mother bear

They’ve never been out here

Felt the heat the stones hold long after the sun’s gone down

Sat so quiet they could hear the hiss of bat wings

Watched the path grow luminous beneath their feet

I’m always startled when I reach the car

Looking back over my shoulder

The woods so black now

It seems impossible I’ve just come through

It’s best to practice darkness

a little each day

One year it lasted months

And I wasn’t ready.