*~Silent Paws~*

Silent paws trotting
on a well beaten trail,
alone in the wilderness,
so young and so frail.
Little yips go unanswered,
the moon is now his guide,
looking for ones just like him,
or have all of them just died?
He sniffs the dampened ground
and senses man everywhere,
the silence is deafening
no howls in the air.
Oh why did he venture
so far from his den,
while his pack fell silent
at the hands of men?
His stomach is growling
but the hunger hell endure,
his pack family is out there
its their blood he smells for sure.
He stops in his tracks
and raises his head up high,
the terror overwhelms him
as he lets out another cry.
But still theres no answer
he cant understand why,
hell follow their trail
or he surely will die.
For days now hes traveled
his spirit and body gone weak,
he lies down in white clover
no more energy left to speak.
Soon the soul hovers
over this tiny, frail pup,
whose future now will be guarded
as his soul travels up.
What right does man have
to take life from a living thing,
that has no way to voice its defense
against a human being?
The wolf is a symbol,
a brother, a friend.
its time now for action
before his existence comes to an end.

By: Unknown~*

*~The Cry~*

He stands alone at the top of the hill
And sings his mournful cry,
His mate and cubs are missing
He's not certain why.
He had been out hunting
Was gone for only a day,
And hurried back with empty jaws
So scarce now was their prey.
He wasn't gone long
Eager to get home,
But the den was cold and empty
And he sensed something was wrong.
The smell of man was everywhere
With footprints in the dirt,
And blood shed from his family
He knew they had been hurt.
He sat and waited day by day
With hopes they would return,
There wasn't much he could do
Except quietly sit and yearn.
Why would man come all this way
To hunt and shoot them down,
To interrupt their quiet lives
When no harm had been done?
Their territory plainly marked
And not once did they stray,
For they would rather starve to death
Than to get in man's way.
The smell of chickens, cows and sheep
Were so tempting at times,
But instincts warned not to hunt them
Or they would lose their lives.
And so they lived a quiet life
Existing on small game,
Careful it was only wildlife
And nothing man had tamed.
So he could find no reason
For the blood shed on that day,
So peacefully they lived here
So far out of man's way.
Maybe they'd be coming back
His cubbies and his mate,
Wolves are mated once for life
So he would sit and wait.
That was many moons ago
And they have not come back,
But he will not stop hoping
For the reunion of his pack.
He now knows men are murderers
But still does not know why,
And every night he climbs his hill
And sings his mournful cry.

By Karen Evans~*