Creatures Of Habit Poem by joe foster

The wolf howling from the maintain side,
as if he forgot her name.
wandering around looking,
insane with pleasure as if shes in heat.
she is no where to be found,
trees blowing,
holding him down.
lightening strikes waking her,
together they are found,
creatures of habit looking around,
both minds alike.
running for cover,
to which the lightening strikes.
together at last,
together again,
hiding from mother nature.
with each stroke of my pen,
they grow closer to their den.