I hear him…
The keen of the wolves
Hail his arrival.Coming upon Night’s mysterious song
His path hidden by new drifted snow.
I wait before the fire,
Its glow lighting the room,
Warming the cold.
Hurry, my love…
He is the Hunter
Of the Winter World.
And I his mortal lover.
When all the Earth
Is lulled to sleep
By Winter’s icy voice
I awaken from a Summer laden slumber.
Hearth and home prepared
I await the first snow fall
And, I listen for his companions,
The wolves.
They are as brothers
To the Hunter
And protect him
As he returns home
To me.
January 9, 1987
Tags: Poetry
