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.
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