panting at the door

Night of the Cold Moon

the door was ajar
open to the night
and its calls
and untraceable
sounds, rustling in the wind
wildness panting at the door

the masks they wear
loud mouths painted
and eyes covered
shielded from glare of sun
and moon
unselfconscious in their fury
wildness panting at the door

more than anything
wandering in the dark
they are what I fear

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