She Howled with the Wolves
The rain came and pummelled her. She did not stop walking.
A tree limb fell, knocking her down. She got back up.
Lightning came, but she did not fold, she was too determined.
A man stopped and tried to give her a lift. She said "no thank you."
She had already seen what some men do, and she wanted none of it.
He called her names, shook his fist. She was glad she had said no.
A flood came and she walked on higher land. Careful of the violets.
The evening came, and the wolves howled. She howled with them.
She walked until she could walk no more, leaving all her stuff behind.
Only things, not her child. Her child was with her, vigilant, watching.
"He was a bad man," her child said. She barely nodded, knowing.
They curled up together, safe for the first night. Wolves stood guard.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2019