Sunday, 19 December 2010

stories from the apocalypse - two wolves

Did we squirm and twist past flying text and the howl of winter-driven maelstrom?

Did we???

Waking fierce to the night and crying out, in red.  Watch the blizzard swirl, and there she pads.  Lupine and grey-eyed, blinking in the early morning sun.  His dream in the ancient brittle-boned, the maned-wolf Canidae.  Following her trail.

Canis lupis and the pelt is raised in hot-blood, embraced and clawing the frosty forest ground.  Alive once more.  We watch the two wolves pass from sight.  Entwined and dancing through the thick pine musk of a wintery needled floor.

The blizzard swirls once more, whipping our snow-blind eyes.  And all is sweet surrender as they enfold in white.  Alone, together.

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