Wolf Moon Dancing on the Highway Through Frost Fields

I am deeply in love with the bridges I burn.

I have never lost anything while they were keeping me warm. 

A Sterling Moon howls at horizons turned gold,

Komorebi frost fields scent the years in their bones.

Umbric edge lanes skim the ribs in the soil.

Bending night wheels, yawning, at exits toward home. 

Paper trails veering with a radio glow.

'Tis better to die out in the open 

Than be behind the four walls that I don't own. 

Being left with little emotion, and having no will for it.