Wolf's Run [version 2]
I know why the wild wolf runs.
He runs to feel the sharp wind through his soft fur.
He runs to feel the hard, cold ground
Beneath his taut paws.
His feet thumping a repetitious rhythm
On a snare drum of ice and snow.
He runs to feel the beat of his heart
Blood coursing through his rigid veins
Warming his skin beneath the sharp wind
Which whistles through his flying fur.
His muscles scream in protest
Yet he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop running
His ears pick up the faintest scratch
His nose twitches as he smells a distant scent
Near indescribable through the rushing tumult
And his eyes strain through the falling snow
That rushes past his face
As his warm air crystallizes
Fogging up the air in front of him
His long pink tongue hangs out as he pants
Water sliding past his sharp, pitiless teeth
And down to cool his hot throat
Which stiffens as he summons up his remaining strength
To howl at the moon
And to begin his run again.
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