Growl
The wolf wind rakes its teeth
across the stanchions of paper birches
seeming to peel strips of bark
rolling back the pristine white flesh
to the tanned heart.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
