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Silver and Vermillion Part Two by Edea BaldwinA night full of sorrow
Silver-furred wolf thrashing
Deeper and deeper into the
Moonlit grove, leaving a
Crimson trail, hot blood
Fallen on the tips of leaves
On the fallen, dead, brittle leaves
She follows, her heart
Pounding on the edge of despair
Listening for the cries of pain as
Cruel briars, leaf-stripped branches
Rip into his thick, silky fur
Leaving beaded lines of dark red
Clotting, his fur matted
With blood and sweat
The moon sinks low,
The lavendar dawn breaks
Slowly, awakened birds
Chatter and trill their
Greetings to the newborn day
She almost misses the
Reclining form of a naked man
Sleeping amid the trampled leaves
His eyes closed, breathing slowly
She stops cold, stunned by
The sight of the blood-drawn
Tracks violating his flesh, pale
And cold in the morning dew
Without a sound she drops
To her knees beside him
And weeps, hot tears falling onto
The cold ground, a few tears
Falling onto his wounds, the warm salt
Reviving the old blood, sending
It is narrow, pink rivulets
Down his flank.
What will he remember when he awakens?
Will the pain and fear remain
Etched cruelly into his memory?
Will he know she has followed him
Through everything, desperately
Seeking to offer solace, peace
To offer some semblance of joy
Where it has been all but killed?
She kneels beside him, watching
The rising of the sun,
Listening to his soft breathing,
Ready to offer life, warmth,
Benediction.
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