Shattered like a mirror,
Old dreams and past love,
The wolf trap that hung over
Papa's fireplace,
I wondered how many lives it stole.
I've never seen them.
There are no wolves here anymore.
But I must imagin - What was it like,
To hear in the dead of night,
Shattering the silence,
The cry of a wolf.
But I've never heard them sing.
All I hear now are cars and rain.
I think of them every night -
What were they like?
I knew they were strong,
I knew they were beautiful.
I would sit up each night and listen with hope,
That maybe there was a wolf left in this place.
But them Papa would say,
"Bed, Dog,
Yer cousins ain't out there no more."
I would flick back my ear and sleep by the fire,
Remembering the Broken beauty of the wolves.
