Cycles

The first frost creeps in on stealthy toes,
Wearing a crystal mask.
A thief in the night, to whom no crevice is closed,
With soul-numbing fingers to probe and caress,
A gleaming dagger to bite deep beneath mortal flesh.

Slowly, achingly, the first mask melts away,
The paralyzing cloak of numbness falls to the grass
Which in turn begins to awake, to stretch, to peek out to view
The uncovered visage of the thaw.
Under each softening tread, the earth-blood flows anew
Through the waking earth.

The figure pauses now in its tread,
Only to sweep anew into a flurried dance.
A new facade of light, of life,
Obscures the features of old.
A mantle of green encloses the strong shoulders,
matching green underfoot arcing up to attain the sun's glory.

Flickering, failing, the illumination fades
Replaced by a time-worn mask
Of gold and amber, blazing in the dying light.
The dance slows, becomes sluggish,
The mantle becoming a cloak once more
Drawn about older, frailer shoulders
As the green fades from the earth, and mortal shapes 
Huddle inside, to start the sleep once more,
Waiting for the first frost.


Return to Pawprints.


Index | Den | Vampires | Coyote