Listening for Your Howl

 

A ghost is a being who left behind regrets

and unfinished business.
Or perhaps, like you, it did not want
to leave.

An owl once crossed my path, looking

deeply into my eyes, so close

I could see every feather outlined.

Spirit Messenger from the Otherworld.

In the morning fog, by the river,

your wolfy heart remembered

your wild puppy days with the pack

on the side of Lone Cone.

The wild cows of Opitsaht eat seaweed

during the long winters, and grow thin.

Sometimes a cowbird will settle

on a bony rump, for companionship.

When the veil grows thin between

your world and mine,

I listen for your howl.

~for Pup, as always