Dawn at the Crossroads

The crescent moon was in the east

a soft golden-red light on the horizon

the moon is rising late, or very very early

but there is something magical about the moon and the sun sharing space

In the clear light of the new day

with Puppy beside me

I stand in the center of the deserted intersection

for all its mundane appearance

it's still a crossroads

The neighborhood dogs are howling

As I turn my back to the rising sun

and throw the water over my shoulder

We walk away without looking back

leaving what isn't wanted behind us.

It's still in that place of not quite dark

not quite light

and the birds are stirring

as we head home

toward the east

the still-bare trees are black against the sky

and on the branches is the shadow of a squirrel

watching the crescent moon.