It was a mile or more I walked
along the small and winding track.
'Til the tree line came,
closed all around
and there was no turning back.

Such silence filled the evening air,
such thoughts ran through my head,
as I listened, watched
and waited
to see where I'd been led.

Then came a gentle rustling noise,
two eyes; bright beady black,
watched careful,
as I slowly knelt,
then careful watched right back.

A moment passed: it seemed an age,
until inquisitive he came.
Eyes guarded,
but with wish to see
who'd entered his domain.

His head was sleek, his step was light.
His coat shone white and black.
He watched me,
careful as before,
and I careful watched him back.

Another step; so near he came,
so close; I longed to touch.
Then we talked,
and though no words were spoke,
it was a time I learned so much.

How long I really can't recall
those liquid eyes held mine.
I was spellbound; lost,
wished he would stay
to the very end of time.

But sudden then, the moon came up,
and in a blink, he turned and fled.
But left me glad,
so glad I'd stayed
and found where I'd been led.