Dreams in Half-Light

In the space between twilight
and deep sleep, leaves flutter
against the ripstop roof
and sweet wild rose slips
in the zippered door;
draws us out to the night.

A silver scar traces the face
of the dusky mountain;
slices through a beard
of sage and juniper
littered with cockle burrs
that tangle in our laces
and cling to our hem
as we clutch for a foothold
in the sliding shale.

We summit on a silhouette
of limestone lip haloed
in chalk moon and watch
owls traverse the tattered ridge.