Sunday, April 10, 2016
When Wild Ones Grow Weary
When you love a wild thing,
it is impossible to return to being tame,
once he has gone.
You can pretend you are civilized,
but the twitch of your whiskers will,
sooner or later, betray you.
Stalking the sunset,
sweet memories will accompany you.
The thought of that little wolf-pup,
gamboling along the beach,
and, when he was bigger,
plunging in and out of the surf with a loopy grin,
will bring a smile, and a tear.
Love is joy. And then pain.
But oh! the remembering!
I will listen for his song.
I will live all the day long
a weary wolf woman
with wolf howls in my heart.
A poem using the titles of four of my poems, "When You Love a Wild Thing", "Stalking the Sunset", "Weary Wolf Woman", and "Wolf Howls In My Heart", for Magaly's prompt at Real Toads: A Poem Of Our Own, to write a poem using three poem titles. I seemed to need four to say it all. Day 10, kids.