Winter’s Wake

Photo © Bradley Wright

Winter’s Wake

The howl of a hound
echoes and races up,
like the shadow
of an omen, half revealed
half withheld, shrouded
by the smokey mists gathering.
It’s lingering resonance
discordantly crawls
through nerve,
sense, and breath
to be denied.

The evening sky
draped and blurred
Masked stars
in chocked susurrant
choruses grow faint
and obscured
until hollowed
into stillness.

Silence presses
into the deep hours.
The frailty of form,
punctuated sharply
by the intangible fog,
seems to shiver in and
out of being.

Swollen beams of morning
break and fade.
Leaves in dozens hang
limp on the ginko branches,
dark dull bodies
twisting lifeless;
now cold, impotent
corpses in winter’s wake.
© Branna O’Dea

This entry was posted in Flora & Fauna, Free Verse, Poetry and Prose. Bookmark the permalink.

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