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About This Poem
The Wolf - Part 3
...... Part 3 ......
The old wolf creeps, the old wolf leaps
on prey he’s been a’ trackin’ -
A deer adorned with branchin’ horns
is torn by beasts attackin’.
The morning quakes, a shadow shakes,
some antlers left a’ lyin’,
And spattered spots and scarlet clots
repaint the point o’ dyin’.
A magpie flies with frightened eyes
(on ebon wings a’ wavin’),
Spies wolfin’ jaws and sated maws
of wolves no longer cravin’.
The snowdrift clears, a cool wind veers,
a dying breath, moreover -
A wraith appears, with shaggy ears,
(one droopin’ down, hung over).
Dawn’s sunbeams crowd and streak a cloud,
(its threaded strands are weavin’).
The pack awakes and twists and shakes,
for soon it’s time for leavin’;
It’s cold and chill on shallow hill,
the she-wolf comes a’ nuzzlin’,
The sky is shrill, the wolf is still,
the pack stands back a’ puzzlin’.
On crimson snows neath perchin’ crows,
the pack, it stays a’ guardin’,
The nights are tight with Harpy kites,
the she-wolves wait an’ harden,
Until a groanin’ blizzard stones
the barren forest ..., stowin’
The shaggy ears, beside a weir,
neath icy hails ’a blowin’.
The storm abates and terminates,
the glacial wind’s subsidin’;
The past is past or passin’ fast
and life goes on abidin’.
The herd, today, is far away,
not thinkin’ of the dyin’;
The pack’ll stray from day to day,
’a stalkin’ hard and tryin’.
As spring sneaks forth upon the north,
They’re lean without a leader.
The she-wolf (bound with belly round)
strains neath a budding cedar.
Upon the morn a whelp is born,
who’ll soon be takin’ over
Unchained frontiers ..., with shaggy ears,
(one droopin’ down, hung over).
......End......
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