Bronzed skin catches dying light

Muscles flex, heaving, at the end of the chase

Her breath slows, though she sits anxious still

She waits for the wood to darken–

she moves best in the moonlight

A familiar bush sits to her left

and she smirks, pinches a berry and crushes it in her teeth

A curious wind twists through the trees

and the light shifting in the foliage

bounces, echoing opalescence

through the heaviness of night

The wild woman embraces

this chosen disorientation, and

falls into the fragrance

of jasmine and pine

The moon focuses its glow upon

her sun-beaten brow, and she directs

her gaze toward the stars

drinking in their milky glow