Wolf-Beat

~ Claudia Lucy Anderson ~

Between the thick trees on a moonlit hill,

A flicker of gray threads its way to a shadowless glade

And sits itself under the vastness of a crisp sky -

A lone, pitiful cry shatters the silence.

The pounding of its heart gives a vibrancy to the air

Which is still and sharp in the frozen forest.

Its head is thrust back to utter deviancy,

And its sorrowful eyes yearn an intense pity.

This creature is not one of the pack:

It is lonesome in its desolation and anguish,

And gladly would it tear down that yellow, teasing moon,

And rip it to shreds in its anger and fury and pain.

Survival so raw so wild it holds no bounds.

And when breathless midnight chases stop the steady flow of time,

Then the Wolf closes in for The Kill.