I wrote a poem and a wolf took off with it in his mouth.
He ran quickly through trees and across clear river as I tried to catch him.
Up over hill moon shone it’s golden orb.
I stopped upon the hill crest and looked below.
Around fallen logs a wolf pack gathered waiting for their leader.
He came to a stop around them and gently placed my poem upon the ground.
He nudged the creases out and with elderly wise eyes read what I wrote.
He finished; tipped his head and responsed to my poem.
His wordless howling song tugged at me for I had written about love of nature.
He finished his song and looked up to where I was on hill.
He gently took my poem and raced back up the hill.
He stopped inches to where I was and bowed his head towards me.
I nodded to him taking my poem and clutched against my chest.
He turned around and raced back down to his wolf pack.
I stayed the evening and listened to them sing their leader’s song.
It was sweet to my ears to know they loved my poem.