Blood rises through the werewolf,
the dragon tamer,
the killer of lizards,
the lover of osmosis.
Yet he cannot let go.
Moonlight knows nothing of the sun’s heat,
nothing of snow’s burn,
nothing of the scars binding one enemy to another,
but he can hear its frantic heartbeat
faster, faster, faster until–
Dawn festers into blue sky with a whisper
and the full moon slips away into shadows.
Michael H. Brownstein has been widely published throughout the small literary presses. His work has appeared in The Café Review, American Letters and Commentary, Skidrow Penthouse, Xavier Review, Hotel Amerika, Free Lunch, Meridian Anthology of Contemporary Poetry, The Pacific Review, Poetrysuperhighway and others. In addition, he has nine poetry chapbooks including I Was a Teacher Once (Ten Page Press, 2011), and Firestorm: A Rendering of Torah (Camel Saloon Press, 2012). He is the editor of First Poems from Viet Nam (2011).