The wolf runs close to midnight
A woman astride his back
He runs like a ghost in the moonlight
The night forest all but black
He flits through ancient dark trees
His breath the only sound
Trees stand like silent sentries
Paws whisper across the ground
The woman murmurs in her dreams
Shouts ringing in her ears
Sleep soured by dremt of screams
Though nothing the wolf can hear
Kachina Lan Du Dramur Lan Sinopa said,
August 27, 2007 at 10:48 pm
This is one of my favorite poems you wrote. It reminds me of Kandam and her journey with Yamul. Even though you say you can’t write, you can. You can.