The crisp rustle of colorful death
scrapes the boney branches in the
fall
in the gently blowing moonlight
now pierced by a lonely
Werewolf’s call
A weary traveler turns and
Freezes-
a quick chill pricks the back and
neck
a putrid odor rides the breezes
and the quickened steps crunch-
Cold, darting looks and frantic
shivers
receive the fear another howl
Delivers
Here Everywhere
unbearable
the traveler suddenly drops upon
That death
where a wolf’s blood forms warm
Rivers