Called

Near midnight the moon called me like it used to do down that old trail through the woods I wandered as a child. I paused at the cage where we used to keep the dogs and stood for a time until one by one all their ghosts came panting at the door. I opened it and watched them leap with freedom one more time. I said goodbye as they fled into the shadows of the pines and then I followed. I crossed over that gate which once held back the woods from the yard now overrun with willows. I entered into darkness beneath the oaks that had always been and in that blackness there was no moon no trail except the trail I had always known. Cold mists lingered over the swamp where a few crickets chirped their lonesome songs. Further down the trail echoed the barking of the dogs fainter and fainter. Patches of moonlight burned here and there in the darkness. Atop the ridge ran the crumbling tombstones of the cemetery that held two hundred years of bones. Some of the ancient oaks had fallen across the trail gargantuan trunks and mighty limbs barred my way, but I wove through them, over and under and around the smooth and bark-less wood. As I passed they tore away the years.  Then the leaves before me rustled and I felt the air explode, an invisible mass beating its heavy wings off into the heights. I did not know at first if I was still all there, if it hadn't carried most of me away, but I moved on, and as I did moonlight dotted more and more of my way. I stood at last in a clearing at the edge of the swamp. The moon so brilliant shone I squinted at its light, my clothes so pale, and then I turned. Beyond the ridge the cemetery glowed and down from the hill around shadows of towering trees wove all the apparitions. Awakened by the barking of the dogs they'd come to stand with me and gaze across the swamps at the brilliance of the moon. One by one they rose and in a great V like geese they flew off towards the light. I alone remained in the moonlit forests of my youth.