Wolfish

Cavernous and *****, those eyes that stare, and they stare and they stare and they stare, and a strange, ringing bell peals a tone rare and clear, and its clear, clear as day, clearer still. I do wonder what the wolf would say, if he talked, as he walked through his wood at night. I’d ask him what he’s got in there, in that big, shaggy head, on his path, in the dark and I’d stare.