In them thar hills we lived, nowhere,
Far from the nearest neighbour,
Three miles down the road somewhere,
Minus forty two it was, cold like nitro vapour,
The stress and dark, the sun was down,
The trees would crack explode it seemed,
Eerie was that lonesome sound,
In the sky a ghostly moon it beamed,
I stood there for a while, with a lonesome smoke,
A howling down the hill and then another,
Into the noisy silence broke,
All other thoughts would smother,
Slowly up the hill they travel, coming near,
Quiet now, no sound, and keen their noses aim,
But of me they had no fear,
No chance took I, and to the door laid claim,
Gingerly I turned the handle, quietly,
Just in case, so cold it was, it burnt the flesh,
Silver streaks and gold did see,
Hair glistened in the moonlit mesh,
One quick look, and one quick turn, then in a flash
Such a sight, they disappeared into the night,
Frozen in the breath, my heart it beat, but rash,
The witness of such awesome sight,
Awareness shook, the burned skin, an ache,
Captured mind, it held in pause,
Such vision held me in its wake,
And rapturous hearts applause.
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