When the wolf howls...

There are nights,
When the moon hides and the stars close their eyes.
Nights where coyotes run like wind,
where a still breeze offers a solemn lullaby
and the sky resonates like a blacksmith's den;
Iron and metal
Forging paths unmarred by man,
Till one,
Carelessly,
Mercilessly,
Without consent.
Signs mean nothing to a blind man,
nor touch to one who lacks fingerprints.
These things never seen but always heard.
Though this time it's different;
Apparitions appear openly and walk quietly,
Curious minds want to know but never inquire,
where they get their courage from
or who gave them a right to show their paisley scars,
their ripped jeans and purple anklets,
their chipped nails and scattered lashes.
Who told them to crave attention, yet fear its presence.
Like the leaves fall, but yet again carry life,
only seeing the reflection of the sun through ultrasound machines
Letting greed and evil deeds float away,
like lost kites;
out of sight.
What remains is disrespected, exploited, marred, beautiful, unkempt, radiant,
Bold and no longer afraid.
I am,
Truly something.