The Wolf And The Happy Meal - Poem by Saint Eule
In the Northwest woods clawing the snow,
The Timber wolf finds a left behind pamper.
Humans must have been here you know,
A nearby happy meal toy left by a camper.
The Timber wolf covers his nose in disgust,
He howls complaining to the moon above.
Angry at the trail left behind beer cans rust,
The moon stares back and sends her love.
The forest is being invaded time to move on,
To higher ground this place lost its appeal.
Climbing the mountain he sees a stray fawn,
He tackles his prey and gets the fresh meal.
The meat will last him a few days or more,
He licks his paws thinking of the lost pack.
Separated by gun fire a week or so before,
Lone wolf foraging but can never go back.
Mans pollution encroaches upon the land,
Maybe the pack will meet up in the spring.
Until then the wind will be his best friend,
Assuring him of favor a fresh scent to bring.
He dreams of the pack playing a game of tag,
Until a wakening nightmare big M on the bag.
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