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

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s