Shake Off the Wolf
steel clouds once more freeze
bare trees comfort each other
ripped trunk holds it together
the sun shields its eyes
its flames dying in Winter
the core feels the biting chill
it is in my bones
deep set; can’t shake off the wolf
its gray-fur-stare is howling
my hands crisp and crack
tips and knuckles peel like bark
soulless rain drips down the oaks
my knees turn from lies
thinking themselves well in Spring
they limp like twigs before snap
cerise cheeks remind
the otherwise bleak weather
that seasons will change in time
sun will siphon miasma
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