running with wolves

Running With Wolves

They said: run with us,

scratches carved into bark,

clawmarks angled like invitations.

I tightened laces,

the ground scattering needles

across my steps, mocking leather

with its own sharp laughter.

 

Breath rose in clouds,

a timetable written in frost,

fangs glinting where the air broke.

Freedom padded beside me,

its ribs visible in the half-light,

its eyes refusing margins.

 

A second voice leaned

from the shadows-

moonlight bent into a lectern of stone,

pages fluttering as fur brushed past.

Instinct wore a borrowed mask,

the forest smirked,

branches whispering at the disguise.

 

I matched my lungs to pawbeats,

each exhale a drum in the dirt,

each inhale a rhythm

stolen from the chase.

Loneliness thinned,

its outline erased by dust,

its silence replaced by cadence.

 

The ridge sharpened ahead,

circles carved into stone,

commentary left behind in wind.

The pack’s pace refused margins,

their bodies already gone,

their hunger already etched in air.

 

Perhaps the joke was

carved in hoofprints:

speed never mine,

only desperation’s shadow

stretching long across the clearing.

 

So I ran-

half believer, half critic,

my body a hasp between

invitation and refusal.

The wolves kept their stride,

never pausing for my thesis.

 

 

 

.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Love the last line.
When I was young, I ran with them, almost too afraid to not have the pack to watch my back.
Then, I set off on my own and finally found that I could explore my own conscience...make my own decisions without worrying about being kicked out of the pack.
Your poems seem to always coincide with situations and feelings I have experienced.
Thank you for that.
j.

[redd Brick Keshner]

...it must be the season and the current life stage 🙏🕊️