The man sits, waiting patiently
for the wolf to arrive. It has
been far too long, this wait,
as the Wolf has his lair in
the distant mountain, and
has little use for the people
in the city, in the place
where the man sits waiting.
The man is sure they met once,
although he is now beginning to
wonder if it was simply coyote
assuming the shape
of his lupine imagination.
The man cannot or will not say
why he wishes to see the Wolf,
it is enough for him
to have the desire, and he knows
that once wolf arrives,
he and the Wolf together
will sing a piercing
song to the moon.


This night
in cold moonlight
earth rises up
clouds float down
ghosts walk the margin.
Old ones sing
          now shall be then
older ones still sing
          then shall be once
to wolf and coyote.

This season of north winds
suns heat barren
spirits rise up
dreams descend
man lies interspersed.
Women sing
          we are bearers
men sing
          we are sowers.