Early Morning Angel Poem by Kathy Greethurst

For Anna-May

A streak of silver peeps out
from the bowl of the moon,
insignificant next to Polaris.
No other stars in the sky tonight.

I want to meet a wolf.
Have him grey-close,
gentle and knocking doors,
everyone's spin-doctor.

I settle under goose-down
in my over-sized cherry bed,
leave the curtains open to watch,
try not to fall into sleep.

I pray to a god.
He listens sometimes -
tells me I'm doing OK,
then sends me monsters and freaks.

I read about Aesop's wolf in sheep's clothing
remember the she-wolf that suckled
Romulus and Remus. This is not Rome.
Nor Reading or Gubbio.

A look back tells me,
my she-wolf is here for me -
not shot like Anna-May's.
But like Captain Lodger of Winnipeg
and his Alsatian, my she-wolf comes to sleep
on my bed with me.