Page 77 - The Woven Tale Press Vol. IV #9
P. 77

She prowls murderous through indigo blue, Lifting the scent of something small,
nose rippling to engulf carmine smells.
She Wolf no.24
Loping beneath a slice of frost-sparked moon, a brown howl brews. Searchlight, ochre eyes hunt, razor fur rising.
But she is prey to a snap trap, soon, leaching cochineal on snow, all her colours ending.
Wrinch’s  rst collection of poetry Down By Wild Water was published in December 2015.
68
Tar Sands Alberta
watercolor, gouache and colored pencil 28” x 30” By Jane Skafte


































































































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