Howl

The new neighbors have a strange ritual.

Even before stars come out for the night,
three doors down neighbors perform evening rite.
Both of us don a contemptuous scowl,
when the McCoy’s stand together and howl.

Maybe the moon is sufficient for cause,
(or maybe they are endowed with sharp claws.)
But just like wolves or coyotes in wail,
they perform their ritual without fail.

When they arrived there was nary a peep,
(save for the muffler on their olive jeep.)
Yet soon enough they would stand on their deck,
causing us both to exclaim, “What the heck!”

Neighbors would peek through their jalousie doors
prodded to heed these high-pitched outré roars.
(Neighborhood quiet shattered by the sound
  caused many folk to stand and look around.)

Geese down from Canada grazing about
hearing the howling expressed little doubt
as the sun made for horizon in May
by shaking their tails and walking away.

I was compelled when the howl first began
to confront them--at least that was the plan.
I approached hoping I could clear the air;
but when I looked I saw dogs everywhere.


24 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
10-15-14