Ann Howells

Walking Country Dark

Late at a neighbor’s, I shortcut

the field, avoid ticks – thick this year –

and Lyme rampant. Sun fell,

shadows spread like spilled ink,

shapes grew amorphous.

No streetlamps, no headlights,

no Open-All-Night neon. Country dark.

Storm took the electric dark.

Can’t-see-your-hand-before-your-face dark.

I judge progress by feel of gravel beneath my feet.

Just a quarter mile, familiar territory,

but this path

I’ve walked perhaps a thousand times, feels alien.

Somewhere a cow lows, horse whinnies,

mosquitoes whine.

Pine and honeysuckle hover the air,

alongside bitter scent of wild carrot.

Humidity rests heavy on my shoulders,

but I shiver only partly from chill.

A single bark and he’s beside me,

flank brushing my thigh. I’m too old to believe

in ghoulies and ghosties . . . things that go bump

in the night. Still, I am thankful

for Ranger’s companionship.

Ann Howells of Carrollton, TX edited Illya's Honey for eighteen years. Her recent books are So Long As We Speak Their Names (Kelsay Books, 2019) and Painting the Pinwheel Sky (Assure Press, 2020). Her work appears in small press and university journals.