Wolf Dance

photo from google

There are shapes like ghosts
flitting through the trees.
Do you see them?
Flashes of silver, of gray, shadows 
black and shimmering.
They come loping into the clearing,
leaping and circling,
first, a bow, tails arcing aloft, heads low,
then a joyous sprint, 
paws lifting high
as they run
and weave together.

They have traveled far.
They have found a place
away from Man,
for at least this night.
This night, they are safe.
Today there was food.
Their bellies are full.

Stretching above,
black, like a sorcerer's cloak,
is a sky
all covered
with peekaboo stars.

Tonight is joy,
flashes of silver
under an alabaster  moon.
Tonight, they are dancing.