Wolves
but not beneath
your feet.
Your brow defends
the shadow
fallen there.
Frail sun leaves
ice unscathed
and windows cold.
Another winter
just begun,
bolder than the last.
Remembered warmth,
an empty glass,
pale worn out shoes.
The wolves are braver
this year, hungrier,
more brazen.
Inside, counting them,
I go mad as they
gather near the well.
What thick coats
they have, what eager
eyes and tongues.
What wild dreams,
framed by a rim
of naked trees.
I give a carefree
whistle, call them
to the door.
November 24, 2005
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Also by William Michaelian
POETRY
Winter Poems
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-0-4
52 pages. Paper.
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Another Song I Know
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-1-1
80 pages. Paper.
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