The wolf is howling.
Can you hear him?
But not in anger or hunger.
This howl is of pain.
Of what use am I to the howling wolf?
A bear—rescuer only to the lonely
And loner he is…
In hibernation I seek companionship
Yet he howls at that which is beautiful
She will forever be out of his reach
Brightly she shines over everyone
And no one
Because she cannot love
She can only be desired
The wolf believes these trees shield him
That the moon lights his way
But the snatch of gray in his coat
Glitters in her glow
Enough for a hunter’s aim
And now he is scarred by her
…and still he howls.
There are no other bears in these woods
Nor wolves like he
Winter forces me to sleep
I have called him in from the cold
But I am bear, and he wolf
And wolves howl at moons.