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Karen O’Leary |
Lone
wolf’s howl.
Can it be
El Lobo’s call?
Poachers chased the wolves
away, many travelled
safely to a large wildlife
refuge twenty-five miles away.
I open the back patio door
and drop into a chair as El Lobo
bounds up the stairs. We embrace then he tucks
his head in my lap. I scratch behind
his ears then rub his layered fur.
He lifts his head then eases
toward his family (mate
and two six-month-old
pups.) I pet each
then they leave,
one in
hope.
Dear Sunil,
ReplyDeleteThank you for publishing my poem in your community of varied voices. Congratulation on your extensive following in Setu. Wishing you ongoing success.
Sincerely,
Karen