The Skunks

We smelled them
Before we saw them
Up on the hill
Wandering
Black and white
Through the purple flowers
They rooted in the soft brown earth
And would pause
To nibble as they
Meandered
With no particular place to go
I felt a stab of longing
For long summer days
For camping and walks with
No destination in mind
And only the decisions of now
Directing
My moment
Simple, straight forward,
Black and white
Meandering through purple flowers