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Jonathan Moya
Poems
Dec 2020
Wolfwalkers
The town exists in harsh geometry,
the forest— a fiery flow.
The wolf leaps above their soul,
a crescent moon.
Run the wolf.
Flee the wolf.
Don’t go beyond the wall
lest you be devoured.
When the wolf howls
they make work their prayer,
their protection.
They pray a whole Bible
before the night comes.
The wolf howls away.
The villagers toil in their dreams.
They pray away in their cells
knowing the Lord Protector
and the Hunter keep them all safe
and from walking freely
with the wolves
of the forest.
Written by
Jonathan Moya
63/M/Chattanooga, TN
(63/M/Chattanooga, TN)
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Caroline Shank
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