Wild

4/26/2020 Wild poetry contest Sponsor Anthony Slausin The collared dog awaits his master’s love and laps and licks the blessed hand above, while the wolf, ephemeral shaddow of the unbiddable wild drinks from the crystal streams descending the mountain. (He drinks from the palm of creation.) Obedient pets sit, with poise, awaiting treats, or scratch the door, the scent of cedars sweet, but too far, while the wolf runs through the bright brush at the bull elk, those bellowing lungs a trumpet announcing to the deeps the shadows of the forest live. The Good await the chance to thrust their nose into the rushing wind as Civics go, while the wolf encircles the dust to lay and lick all the delectable scents of the wind in his fur. Faithfully the pet lays, alone on the steel table wondering where his master is, the scent of the vet surrounds him like wolves that eat the walls of the room until he is free.