Winter Comes
Inspired by the rituals
of the Cree Indians of Northern Quebec
Bellies appeased
we always return to the spirit
beak, feathers, boar snout,
hoof and goat horn:
tail
teeth
nails
&
skin
we hang
from the death tree.
Thorny acacia guards
for the wind and rain their portion.
Once, we found a carcass
swinging throttled
where it tried to steal.
That night the wind
in the stripped mouth howled.
Still unmourned, the lone wolf twists
from its limbs.