When I found him,His face was barely visibleBeneath pounds and moundsOf matted snowy fur.His body tremoredEven in the warmth of a bath,As I combed out..
The witching hour winds were not at all what you would expect. They were warm and smooth, swallowing my face in a rush of air, leaving me momentarily ..
Blue-gray fog condenses on the inside of my glasses as the coolBeltane morning blends with your blue-flame breath.Endless sky stretched out before us ..