My Silver Bullet
I
Turned into something of a wolfman.
(Beauty will do that to a man sometimes).
In
A dream I was told you lived in a motor home.
Somewhere on the continental divide (so unlike you).
In the frothy whirl of a dream, I was at your door and howled.
It was obvious you weren't home for quite some time.
I stepped inside as if I'd been there a thousand times.
Everything
Just like your mind, your place was in great disarray.
A single silver bullet embedded in a wicker nightstand.
I never did reacquaint myself with that angelic face.
That turned a man into a howler on a permanent chase.
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