Under a Moonlit Night

In the deep of the night
when stars shine bright
and Platte Clove creek runs low
you can hear the coon dogs bay
under the full moon.
 
Hunters, wild and free
of a forgotten time
still wander the mountains
following their dogs
in search of their prey.
 
Hammers from the past ring
against stone at a quarry
from beyond tonight
to cut bluestone
for city sidewalks.
 
Somewhere down the mountain
a long ago tree falls
from a loggers crosscut
saw.  An axe chops dull strokes
into the wood.
 
In the deep of the night
under a moonlit sky
when the Platte Clove creek runs low
calm hangs in the air
like fog over the land.