The moon
beckons to follow
over the
marsh where water
has
become ice, solid for fleeting
feet
running through the rushes
holding
once rampant waters still
for
creatures to find their grasp
while
they continue the hunt
of
rabbits and fox that prowl
the
night in the glow of the moon.
I weary
of this chase, feet are raw
bleeding
from the shards of ice
leaving
prints in the snow to be
scented
from my pursuer who will
soon be
upon the limping formations.
There
are outlines of trees ahead,
old
maples and oak branches that
have
become fuel for the pioneers fire
where
they keep their hearth warm
and cook
their food to provide heat
for
their cabins in this bitter winter
and
after this long and tiring chase
I will
give my own fur only to feel
once
more the heat and a hearty
welcome
to join the clan once more.
A lot of emotion
ReplyDeleteThat moon has always affected me Michelle. Perhaps it's because it's so early and brilliant.
Deletethe wolf is my totem Cheryl, thus I can almost feel the fur on my neck rising in response to this gorgeous selection.
ReplyDeleteThank you Barry. It's something about this particular moon I feel almost primitive about. It makes me want to run wild.
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