A Searcher

Something moves in the night,
A rustle in dry grass.
It pauses
As far off
A coyote cries
And next door
A donkey brays in concern.
A moment.
Two moments.
Then it unfreezes
And picks its way once more
Through the darkness,
For food
For shelter
For its mate.
A slave to instinct
And the cycle of life.

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