Shake Off the Wolf

steel clouds once more freeze bare trees comfort each other ripped trunk holds it together the sun shields its eyes its flames dying in Winter the core feels the biting chill it is in my bones deep set; can’t shake off the wolf its gray-fur-stare is howling my hands crisp and crack tips and knuckles peel like bark soulless rain drips down the oaks my knees turn from lies thinking themselves well in Spring they limp like twigs before snap cerise cheeks remind the otherwise bleak weather that seasons will change in time sun will siphon miasma