It was a night of subtlety, a mist of sorrow lingers in the air.
Wolves bay at the full moon.
Shadows rise from the abyss.
Mist shrouds their stalking forms,
of lurking fear.

Midnight fog cascades over
Mountain tops,
spilling over their peaks.
The valley opens wide it’s legs,
making room
for the rivers entrance.

Now a night of new awareness,
the night burns
with subdued reality,
that goes crisp
from the chill in the air.

Amanda Shelton