Friday, August 28, 2020



La Loba,
in your dark cave,
under the full moon,
Sing as you gather the bones 
of my brothers, my sisters.

Sing as you lay them down
on the ground.
Place them end to end,
tenderly, carefully,
piece by piece, 
until they are whole.
Then breathe life into them 
and watch them leap up,
joyous-eyed, tails arc-ing,
teeth snapping and smiling,
around the fire.

as they take my heart with them
and run away,
beautiful, laughing and free,
into the welcoming
midnight forest.
La Loba, sing!

written in 2013 and re-posted here for Earthweal's open link.  I picture La Loba as a wild wolf woman, able to breathe life back into wolfish bones.


  1. This is really evocative, Sherry. I can hear it!

  2. I love this and have considered myself as a woman who runs with the wolves for a long time. La Loba is one I would love to see in action.

  3. How I would love to running with La Loba right now. Your poem really carries me along. I can imagine that midnight forest. Suzanne of Mapping Uncertainty

  4. That’s the song, the one the wolves sing, Sherry! A wonderful wolf poem.

  5. I hear the song and I feel the ancient ones on the cusp of a shamanic dream. The spirit longs to run free.

  6. We all need a little life breathed back into our bones these days, and I can't imagine anyone better to do it than your wolf-woman singer.


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