XXIV

cold air
seeps
into your hollow body

your double opens
what should be eyes

XXIII

your body
spewed and reformed

blue wire
skeleton
danging above

XXII

unknown 

anatomy

squirming 

through

pinpricks

XXI

nerves slicing
through your flesh
like the raised hair
of a wolf
smelling death

XX

sinew peels
from the bone

spiraling through
your sweat-soaked skin

to emerge

XIX

and the lick
of blue light
slicing through
your bones

the width of sticks

XVIII

you stumble on a stone

creekwater slick

and pitch 

to the ground

deep blanket of pine fur

XVII

you crash through
the jaws of pines

careening

darkstruck

cold with dread

XVI

your breath shatters
like a dropped glass

the lonely dance
of a heartbeat or two

and you start to run

XV

your eyes
reel and dilate

shadows surge
to fill the void

you are now alone

XIV

starlight breaks
through the trees
and illuminates

snarling crushed-nose faces
and glassy feral eyes

XIII

a low chant roils
ominous whirlwind

crown of ice
laid upon your
shuttering skull

XII

you stand alone
but you are not

a ring of eyes
glint and flicker
from the low boughs

XI

you jerk away,
the grip loosens
and floats upward

nesting like a crow
in a black pine

X

but the
embrace of fingers
around your
cold wrist

is no animal's paw

IX

no, a trick
of the trembling ear
to hear the steps
of a corpse
in an opossum's wander

VIII

...

a thump
some

limb dragged
through wet soil

VII

skin of your cheek
pulling taut

ears hinged
to seize on any
sudden              
           
             twigcrack





                 

VI

your eyes
blackly dilate

watching for the breath
of shadow
on shadow

V

step deeper in,
shake off the fanged cold
coiled in your gut

cloth swish
shroud music

IV

on the other side

of this darkness

someone waits

to taste your breath

between whispers

III

the lights of town

fuzz out behind

the slim wall of fog

your home, vacant.

porch light dying.

II

crow caw twilight:
the woods part
and shadows leak out

the scent of cold sticks,
rain puddling in your steps

I

summer's wing
has folded under the
cold nose of fall -

this story uncurls
a wet limb