Woof

a.

Her wolf gait leaps into night-sky airspace

charged with shape-shifting wolf,

electrical lights beam behind curtains.

Our loping Lupus shadowed

by cloud’s sinewy stride

and those left alive on the lip of high-plain land

howl through the mist

as storm wolves fall

from redwood wolves,

spirit wind wolves, clambering

wolves wearing goat coats to ward us off their scent.

b.

The gates one passes through in a day, in a decade: the tender gate of
one’s scraped uterus, universe; skyscraper gates; elevator’s golden gates,
a bridge to ecstatic ascension; one’s garden gate that opens onto velvety
petals; our airport gate; an infusion port gate; those gale gates cross-
venting, cross-stitching one’s four-gated heart; the cardinal-direction
mandala gates that face the Celestial Mansion; one’s laptop gates; lap
dancing gates; lapping up milky gates to level-up in a game, to dig down