and it was you
who was a herd of wild horses
on a beach in South Carolina
the sand that gave gently and pushed back firmly
a wave beneath each thundering hoof
who was one timber wolf in the snow
that howled his longing to the full cold moon
who was the full cold moon
the light that illumined each falling flake
splendid to behold
Saturday, January 26, 2013
1/1/13
Posted by Brooke the Watcher at 1/26/2013 12:04:00 PM
Labels: poetry
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