i do not know me,
life always such a mystery.
Yesterday some one send me photos of last fall, the colors so extremely colorful. I loose that totally, living in a world all white. Today a storm came through, instantly my dark mood vanished.
i am chirping like a bird. listening to his lovely voice. i blushed . i blushed , my gosh i blushed, how wonderful. that i am still me.
Last week i wrote this poem when at night the owls where talking.
An owl hoots
some 100yards away
all darkness
why do i love the lone black wolf
a wolf that might stand still
and turn it's head towards me, staring,
listening to me
I call back to the owl
i have been hearing owls for several days
so close today
i am inadequate in this forest
where the lone wolf hunts
and the owl answers
if
i saw the wolf
would i have the courage
to approach
he would trot off, that i know
I am not equipped
my bones creak
my body aches
with an incurable disease
yet i'm healthy
strong
I don't try to approach the owls
their wingbeat silent
there's no telling if they heed me or not
Do i listen to their call?
i want the wolf, i wail
grovelling in deep snow
i scream out for the black wolf
i scramble for his hidden den
my frozen hands
only turn up snow and ice
There's blood
warm bright red, frozen white