Fevered Mind

A poem by Sydney Stone. I do not own the image.

***

The winds that blow in the winter’s snows,

Whisper softly beneath the aurora’s glow,

Distantly, the lone wolf cries,

Calling mournfully to cloud-strewn skies,

Wishing only to see the moon,

Chilling blood with its sorrowful tune,

Out from snow-bank darts the hare,

In search of food for kits to share,

All is surveyed by the owl,

Observing the fox that’s on the prowl,

All throughout the north wind blows,

Layering on the winter’s snows.