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Raccoon on roof, early morning: photo by Carsten Volkwein, 2007
Self reborn as lotus in head
better late than never low in the southwest
the full moon a half degree wide
.................just after sunset peeping
.........later still, indigo cheesecloth night
Redwood cloaked in fog
raccoons moving from floor to floor,
........from room to room
in the fog,
with a sound like thin paper tearing.
Raccoons in a tree: photo by Gary J. Wood, 2006
Raccoon (procyon lotor): photo by Darkone, 2005
6 comments:
Talking of better late than never, that's the last we or they will see of the moon (now already shrouded in a long ominous train of cloud) for some time to come.
They're better at riding out these crazy climate change events than we are, but then how would we know how they cope with having the trees they live in blown down and washed out.
It is at this moment the time of restless swirling quiet before the vaunted initial wave of storm, and for once they're not out chittering and chattering and scrapping on the roof.
Hunkering down in the ivy, rummaging about in the bread we've left for them and considering their options mayhap.
All very well, they don't have selves that must be reborn, nor the sort of heads in which something so implausible could even be posited as ever happening.
This poem will be the first time I've heard a raccoon: delicate and lovely sound in the ears.
later still, indigo cheesecloth night
The night sky with weft and warp as well as colour.
No raccoons in these parts though we do get some ferreting varmints that sprint through our garden in the hours of waxing/waning light on their way to early breakfast or supper.
You’ve captured beautifully the aural qualities of night. It reminds me of something Faulkner wrote early on: of car tires passing over a rain-wet pavement, making a sound like ripping a piece of silk. A more exact recall is now beyond me, but the use of "silk" made a lasting impression.
The raccoon talk only begins after the hum and hiss of car talk ceases -- that is, deep in the night.
They are like Charlie. They own the night.
Here's a bit of raccoon chatter. Also shows the good use they make of their opposable thumbs.
They are amazing creatures. I was picking the paper up off the lawn at daybreak a few years ago when a neighbor alerted me to a fat coon sitting on top of our chimney. Part of the family that lives under our shed, I think. Great photos.
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