from the trestle

30 May

now i know you to

be the howling

i heard against

my night

for so many


the you who plants

seeds among the bones

of your

summer kill

warrior fruit for winter

you told me


the you who is always


though never looking

stalking far along

the tree line

leaving no trace

of your scent

the you who

slips among the

uninspired who are

bleating in


the you with

sleek black pelt

agate eyes

arrow tail

ridge raised neck

sharpest teeth i

ever admired

inside the beautiful lips

of a famous


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: