rolling thunder over a field of grain
an owl basks in the summer rain
fleeing down into a darkened hole
my fur is warmed by a smoldering coal

tucking close behind soil and wood
seen and heard only when I should
bright and loud like a beetle's wing
quick to anger, quick to sing

briar raised and briar returned
loyalty and softness once it's earned
nut brown cello plays a melancholy tune
a creature sleeps in the month of june

Written on 6/1/2025