The Turning Poem by Nightmist Moonshade

My emerald eyes stare jealously at the now full moon,
Knowing that my glimmering eyes will be it’s sliver soon.
Slender fingers once my own,
Are now replaced with paws of chrome.
Fangs and claws lust for blood,
Stuck sinking in the mud.

A snowflake fallen from a cloud,
The moon’s glory covered in a shroud.
A silent hunter among the trees,
A snow white hare dances toward the coming breeze.

The calming dew,
The bleating yew.
The yowling kit,
The lanterns lit.
They’ve found me out,
They’ve come about.

The night was young,
But now is done
The turning is complete,
I have now but two feet.
As the moon fades away,
This is the turning of the last day