They Are Here

They are here,

in the winter woods,

where the snows have come,

layers ascending

towards the sky.

 

They must move slowly,

resting often,

eating what’s left

of bark,

and berry.

Wary of anything,

that forces them to run,

the snows lying deep,

their heavy bones,

descending

to the earth,

where they are bound,

moving slowly.

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