Carson Camp
Judith Taylor Graham
Owl is legend
in the mind of cat
who bears the imprint of his talons
scabbed into her flank,
his call a song like
"now."
Our dogs repeat coyote lore,
the night marauders
of bagged kibble and canned meat
who strew our litter from firepit to meadow,
leaving the sostenuto
of their howl.
For us, older legends ghost about this
campsite-voices we've never known.
We try to map their footsteps,
the imprint of a hand on
granite that wind and water
imperceptibly wear down.
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