Moondown

What is the hour?
When the coldest of cold
is the chillist of chill.
When is the hour?
The darkest of dark,
With the absence of sound,
When fire has burned low
and your blankets are warm,
Your pillowed saddle,
cracks with no sound.

Your movement is slight
eyes only slits,
To see if cookie's up
and has a fire lit,
With breath hanging low,
White frost on the air,
Fish for your boots,
Are they still there?
That hour has come,
When only brave dare,
Before the shriek of the cock
greets the warmth of the day,
When the stars have bed gone
and the moon doth now lay,
Before the sun streaks the East,
Fore the coming of day,
Moon down is past,
Greet the new day.......

James Kitchens
Brady, Texas