Waiting

Diamonds litter the sky
They grow at my feet and
Sneakered toes crunch-crunch
Right on through, unaffected
Beauty is in the eye of the
Beholder, but my mittened
Paws tell me otherwise.
Cars and houses are a
Gaudy display iced out
Grills shining silver
In the blank stare of
The impartial partial moon.
Even the dumpster got in
On that crazy ghetto action.
Mouth gaping like a yawn
Though infinitely more
Threatening to my future,
Big, black sacks of filth
Are frosted like a gingerbread
Scene straight out of Martha's
Book. And still the gems
Are falling from velvet
Reaches, staining my eyes
With burning crystals.
I am Little Red, with my
Hands full of goodies
And my legs are candy canes
Out of season, but still
Quite in festive colors
For the February blues.
I wonder now if I am due
For a repeat. I am tense
But not for feelings,
Rather, the memory is a
Serrated needle in my
Hollow cheek. I fill that
Chasm with my round
Tongue, eager to be
The brand new wolf.