Yesterday's Past - November 5, 2001

In the chilly shadows 
of the November moon;
I am reminded that all things
come due on promises made.

A howling whistle 
runs through the forest,
rattling the leaves 
along the way.

Every crunch against
lifeless leaves
reverberates through the night.

Darkness casts a pale shadow
on the forest floor -
weaving life and death
in and out.

A growing hunger
in the night -
for warmth and shelter
drives the footsteps
faster -
until we lurch
into the welcoming circle
of light
at the end of this day's path.