The Wilderness

                 The Wilderness

Searing cold dries the willow branches,
Brittle, brittle, they crackle in the wind,
Empty fields worn thin by grinding cold,
Drifting snow covers wan wisps of grass,
Fodder for wandering beasts lost in chill musings.

Gather, gather yourself for flight,
Clutch your heart close, softly beating,
Liquid life warm and flowing,
Pulse by pulse you fly,
Across the wilderness.