An Encounter

Behind the night’s darkness, they stay hidden,

hiding beyond the circle of the headlamp I wear

to guide us safely down the road, the dogs and I,

unaware they are even there, whatever wild

life they may be, lurking there, watching us pass.

But the dogs can sense them, and alerted, know something is

there, hearing their movements, smelling their musky scent,

stopping as they have to sniff, to listen, to gaze into

the darkness, marking this spot as theirs. And as I

wait for them, staring myself into that same darkness,

the circle of my headlamp lifted from the path,

surveying, now, the wilds beyond, and thus illuminated,

I can see their yellow eyes glowing, their yellow eyes

but two small lights in the darkness, body-less they seem,

and noting our intrusion – a warning? – they tolerate our presence,

yet will us to move on; no words are spoken, no grunts

or growls, unafraid, and at this moment, a connection

is exchanged in the wilderness of these woods, in the wildness

of our own lives. I tug the dogs’ leashes, and we resume our steps,

moving away, made richer, perhaps, by stopping, richer

by those two yellow eyes watching us from the darkness,

yellow eyes taken into our circle of light, unafraid.