Red Snow, Warm Sands

The snow used to be clear. White. Clean-looking. Crisp, airy tufts that graced the landscape. Bunched together in a kind, soft array.

Before we got here, it wasn’t hard-packed.

Wasn’t disturbed.

And it most certainly wasn’t running with red.

Continue reading “Red Snow, Warm Sands”

Cold Comes the Lie

It was a leaf.

One singular leaf.

And it fell.

Speaking only in a whisper as it went. Its last cry carried on the wind that took it from its place, its home. It was just the one leaf, falling through the breeze. Calling to me, warning me, as it did.

He is not the same.

That’s what the leaf said.

He is not who you think him to be. 

Was the echo the wind gave. Words that spoke of fall, of seasons changing. Words that carried truth to them. A resounding, hollow ring.

I will tell you something that few know:

A forest on the verge of death can only speak truth. It has been that way since always. Since forever. An ancient law, as old and bright as the sun. Which is how I knew:

He was not who I thought he was. Continue reading “Cold Comes the Lie”

Forging Seasons

We were wolves, basking in the glow of the moonlight. Chasing autumn’s heels as winter froze our game. Hungry bellies that ached beneath the warmth of our fur, our smoking breaths, our hopeful howls. We huddled through the cold, cobbling warmth together with beating hearts and heated blood. When spring came, we were the first to greet it. Singing praises to the melting snow and the blooming life. All things renewed in our meadows, filling us to the brim with new scents, new trails. And we stayed through summer as well, panting through the sun’s burden of heat. Powering through so that we might blend with the colors of autumn once again.

We were wolves.

And things were beautiful.

It was not perfect.

It was not easy.

Yet…

It was life.

And it was good.

We were wolves. Together under the gaze of the forgiving moon. Hidden along the trees’ shadows, watchful and hopeful with every passing season. Looking forward to the future together with our eyes looking past the skies.

But now…

Now I’m unsure.

The foreign scent brings me grief. Filling me to the brim with something akin to summer’s heat, yet, it leaves me empty like winter’s bared teeth. This strange, familiar shape I see…

This change brings a season I’ve never heard of before. Winds that jar my senses with the foreign scent it brings.

You’re changing.

You’re…

Leaving.

Becoming… other.

And I don’t know anymore.

If we are not wolves…

Who will we be? Continue reading “Forging Seasons”

Through the Snow

When I shudder, it’s not because it’s cold.

It’s summer now. Summer, in this muggy, swamp heat. Here, the sun drools on us, breathing hot ragged breaths over our necks. Dragging us across hell’s palm. Scalding us the moment we step outside.

No, I don’t shudder because it’s cold.

I shudder because it isn’t supposed to be cold.

And yet, here I am. Feeling that hand creep across my back. Tracing the outline of my clothes. Clawing to get into my system. Wanting to dig deeper. To tear into me.

I don’t shudder because it’s cold.

I shudder because it’s apparent:

The cold has been brought to me. Continue reading “Through the Snow”

Beneath the Snow

The thing I liked about snow was:

It was tricky.

Very, very tricky.

It cascades over the landscapes. Washes it to look clean. Gives it a sparkling, new feeling those first few days that it sits. For as long as it remains untainted by dirt, it looks pure. White.

Like the world has been given a fresh start.

But…

If you step in the snow, you find that that’s not true.

It’s not true at all. Continue reading “Beneath the Snow”

Winter Beast

It falls. Blankets and exhales of it, raining from the sky. Dropping like a thousand little bites of blistering cold. Nipping at the inside of your skin as you walk, as you breathe, as you move. The Miser himself couldn’t do better.

It’s freezing, that’s the point I’m trying to make.

Freezing, and white, and windy as all hell.

And still, I can’t stop.

Can’t stop.

It’s right behind, you know. Right behind. Trailing through the snow. Sniffing me out. Big, bushy coat keeping it warm while I freeze. While I run, endlessly, through this winter underworld.

I tell you what:

It’s hell. Continue reading “Winter Beast”

Summer Fling Of A Summer King

The day the invitation showed up was the day I knew:

They found me.

Again.

And, more than likely, they weren’t going to let me go.

Not this time. Continue reading “Summer Fling Of A Summer King”

Wolf of the Winter Wood

I had always thought I liked winter best. The way the cold pricks at your nose, keeps your senses sharp. Covers the ground with white, dusting away what once was in favor of what could be. A clean slate with the death of the past. Of what was.

Yeah, I liked winter best.

In all honesty, I think I still do.

But.

There was one thing I forget to account for.

Winter is so, so cold. Continue reading “Wolf of the Winter Wood”

Summer Soul

Frost. Snow. Ice.

Staples of winter.

When the wind bites, and the trees shudder, winter has set in. It isn’t all bad, winter is a time of rest. As it should be. One requires rest before they can obtain renewal.

However.

Rest is not permanent. It is the task, but not the goal.

Renewal.

That is the goal.

Warmth stretching your muscles, soothing your bones. A time for heat to seep in, keep your blood pumping. Keep you alive. Heat to bring warmth, to bring light.

Summer to soothe your soul.

That’s the goal.

A place of renewal.

That’s the goal. Continue reading “Summer Soul”

Warm Winter

It rained down on us. White flurries of frosty fury. Tiny morsels that, alone, meant nothing. But together?

They covered everything.

And it was in this blanket of quiet that I went searching.

Because the cold would only keep away for so long. Continue reading “Warm Winter”