“Wendover Woods in Autumn” by Robert Firth, via Wikimedia Commons
A Whistle Broke
Deep down in the woods a whistle broke
loose and tensed the dog, tail a-wave
for a parade she ached to join.
Deep down in the woods rain fell.
I planned each step heading down
as if mud might ski me to the dell.
Deep down in the woods the crows
found the owl in the firs’ high limbs
and flocked like stone throws
to drive away the dark,
to foil the dog’s sniff of jokes,
and rock me on my feet.
—Tricia Knoll
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Tricia Knoll is an Oregon poet with two books in print – Ocean’s Laughter (Aldrich Press 2016) and Urban Wild (Finishing Line Press 2014). Website: triciaknoll.com
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