Dreams of Coal

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Daylight ends suddenly
as fall comes into its own.
Looking for easy dinner
a redtail hawk sits on a cobrahead
blinking on over the highway
cloverleaf. The smell of deisel
hangs in a billow drifting into growing darkness.

At the edge of the forest
on the other side of the frontage
road, two young men, laughing,
lift mountain bikes out of a Toyota pickup.
Single-track snakes out of the parking
lot and circles around a beaver pond

to a ridge tappering on
into the ever darkening trees.
A dog sprints ahead 15 yards,
stops, turns, and barks twice.
At mushroom level,
never ending rubber teeth
bite at the loamy trough.
The trail retracts into the swallow
of night.

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