Peter Rangus Poet I do not know?

Of Wolves and Pines

In the meadow I was jogging, 
Lightly, slowly, calmly jogging.
When at once I saw him coming,
Swiftly, hastily, grimly coming,
To the pines to eat my soul.

Spittle through his teeth was falling,
Thickly, grossly, slowly falling,
And the jaws of wolf were barking,
Loudly, meanly, fiercely barking,
At the pines and at my soul.

Soon the hungry wolf was chewing,
Heart and brains, my lungs was chewing,
While the pines were going under,
In the way that made me wonder,
What are pines and what's my soul.

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