I am the child
of absentee-wolves.
A latchkey pup
from a pack of fools.
In the den,
in the woods,
damn the rules.
I will eat what I kill.
I’ve never gotten my fill,
because the latchkey pup
learned to hunt
from the Saturday Morning
Cartoons.
Now I’m old…
I surely look the part,
but if I howl,
it’s not from the heart,
it’s from the wound.
Broken longtooth,
infected root,
the wolf saw his vet
and got some pills to chew,
but the pack came back
(Oh, the howling!)
because they are
owed their due.
©️ Obol, 2019.
