Skip to page content
Return to Top


Christie L. Kuehl


Thundering hooves of crazy horses,

The dark look of red clouds,

A lonesome call from an eagle,

All set in for a restless night.

The horses enter the canyon,

And the clouds fade away.

A rising moon in the distance,

Gives birth to the stars of night.

The stars give light,

With the moon by their side,

While a fire turns to embers,

An owl calls out to say goodnight.

There’s a legend about the owl,

When it calls out in the twilight.

For there’s an open door,

Not even out of sight.

A candle in the window flickers,

Then turns dark and cold.

Through an open door lit by the moon and stars,

There’s a lady.

The lady’s alone now,

Or maybe not.

She lies in a pool, a pool of her own,

Made by the men on the crazy horses.

Under the dark red clouds,

They rode down into the canyon

With a drunken call to each other,

All set in for a restless night.