The Werewolf

I woke up
softly,
like a king in his chamber,
as a door swings open
and a donkey,
laden with rich and flavoursome fruits,
wanders in.

I looked in the mirror
on my night stand
and,
in that moment of half-awake dream
when the air from one world
blows through
the other,
thought I was wearing a Halloween mask.

Then I remembered:
it's January.
And the mirror is a puddle
beside me on the forest floor.

I sniffed myself then,
with a long and hairy snout...