Winter Haibun

The savage wolves of winter

tear at browned summer skin

rich pickings mean survival.


pine cones close tightly

in suffocating silence

ice needles glisten


Dark bears of December

pace and wait cagily

to feed on an easier corpse.


chill winds play their tune

a sombre fugue, low and raw

collides with mountains


January jackals quarrel

and spread bleached bones

in ambivalent disarray.


slim shadows lengthen

death and decay holds the stage

the sated wolves howl



© Graham Sherwood 11/2017

🌷 (2)

◄ Poet's Retreat (1)

I am a poet, not a writer ►


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Stu Buck

Thu 30th Nov 2017 13:12

exquisite use of the haibun template graham, and a much greater feat once you put such strict restrictions upon what you wish to say.

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Wolfgar Miere

Tue 28th Nov 2017 08:57

Something vulturous lurks in here Graham.

It captures the stalled atmosphere of winter, but exudes a menacing quality as winter often does.


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