Darkness was closing in on the sun. A lizard rested on a rock.
The sun rolled along a hungry horizon waiting to swallow its heat,
across the ravine a cold moon was rising.
The lizard snapped at the moon,
a snake darted from a crevice and snatched at the lizard.
The moon went free and breathed a sigh, brushed past the clouds and filled the sky.
Twilight set Fox on her wandering as the mountains spit out stars
the snake spit out the lizard and the lizard the moon.
Sometimes magic runs backwards.
Moonlight dappled a mouse and Fox pounced.
Magic under the moon.
Fox curled up where the rocks held the heat of the day
until the morning cracked like an egg on the tip of a lizard’s tongue.
Lizard moon—
an unbroken circle, a wink at the night, a shapeshifter’s trick with no end in sight.