Wolf Eyes

Tell me,
tell me the way the wolf
walks through the newly fallen
tree-death.
If only I were to be there,
standing under some shining moon
on a lonesome Autumn night,
my heart pounding only for myself.
One.
Unaffected, except for the capture of prey
and only if I'm wanting,
this partnered tale,
this coupled trail,
this pathway pace
would not be mine.
           I wish to be wolf eyes--
           beautiful and cold.


(written Jan. 28, 2010)