Wilfred the Wolf

In the shadow of the Tamarack trees 

The powdery snow swirls 

With voices low and loud – the wolves wail 

Wilfred the Wolf stands stately and bold 

Atop a thousand pounds of mud and snow 

He lifts his haunches high and howls at the moon 

Beauty of the spectacular swirling 

Northern Lights Is splayed across the night sky bright 

Wilfred’s glazed wild eyes Are wakened by the rattle of the wind 

The howl of the wolf pack begins 

Moon shines like a newly laid golden egg 

Wilfred stands tall against the moon His howls ring through the night 

Wolf pack hunts – in bone chilling winter months It’s high stepping and slow through the piled-up snow 

Winter’s breath is not at its best 

For either man nor beast 

When the knock-out storms of winter are few 

Wilfred – through his howls he sings A new beginning into the likes of Spring

-Elaine Magdalene Faires