For the dverse prompt, a poem with symbols.
The thin-flanked wolf stalks these bare hills,
When wind has stripped the golden leaves
From oak and alder by the stream,
Where once were stacked rich summer sheaves.
Hunger now and thin-ribbed voices,
Echo through the balding wood,
And I hug my chest with gnawing cold,
On this dark bank where once we stood.
Winter cold, he brings and hunger,
The great boar, I see tusk-furrowed slopes,
No eyes have I for wind-ruffled robin,
Pared to white bone my famished hopes.