Sunday, April 12, 2009

National Poetry Month

Three Wolves Running

He runs on my right side still,
four legs and the road's freedom
to turn.
Yes Beloved, I remember
a truck, a bedroll and that
great grey head.
Curling in your fur and stories,
a playful growl between us.
Deep in the dark of Steeple Mountains,
all trails led to your door
and let go.

She runs on my left side still,
amber eyes and the road's reading
to learn.
Yes Beloved, I remember
a fire, a teaching and your
panting breath.
I followed the scent of your
for the old grey between us.
Singing songs upon the moonlight,
three wolves running 'cross time,
and the ribboned line
of a howling highway.


janeeamon said...

Love this poem - very good.

Lorraine Hart said...

Merci bien m'amie Jane. I've been slow...but more stories coming.