The White Wolf

Padding across his territory,
Scenting for his missing glory,
Searching through the dim,
For the pack that forsaken him,

The white wolf pauses,
Sniffing the earth below his paws,
Sniffing for his next meal,
The next great ordeal,

The sun set gleaming in the distance,
Showing him no sign of resistance,
He crosses the border,
Keeping the forest in order,

His river flows to the right,
So deep that the fish have no sight,
He climbs small rocks by riverbed,
Going to lean his furry head,

Only to pause to for a moment or two,
Looking into the deep brew,
Stars glimmer reflecting back,
Different members of his pack,

Looking towards Mars,
Hoping to see familiar stars,
Nothing but skies of ebony,
Making him feel lonely,

He rises his calls,
Resounding songs are heard by none and all.
Majestic sounds ring through silent nights,
Giving young campers frights,

This is the wolf’s resounding call,
In hopes it’s heard by none and all...