I stumble through leafless woods as
moonbeams tumble down from the sky,
cloudless twinkling with myriad stars
all burning cruelly-bright and blinding.
Upon my neck the hairs stand tall
and my nails curl and grow till blades
cut my skin as my hands clench in fists,
and I contort and fall, snarling.
Howls pierce the woods so empty as
my claws find the earth and I listen
for the beat of a heart or flight of prey;
tilt my head and catch a scent.
This moonlit night I’ve fled from home
and lost here in winter’s grasp all alone,
frenzy tightens like vines on my throat
and blood-like mist descends, and I hunt.