NAVIGATION POETRY Home Wolf Facts Puppies Wolf Myths Protect Species Timeline Visit Wolves Wolf Killers Gallery Multimedia Poetry Headlines Action Alerts WolfDogs Dakota MacKenzie Links Web Rings POETRY Silent Paws Silent paws trotting on a well beaten trail, alone in the wilderness, so young and so frail. Little yips go unanswered, the moon is now his guide, looking for ones just like him, or have all of them just died? He sniffs the dampened ground and senses man everywhere, the silence is deafening no howls in the air. Oh why did he venture so far from his den, while his pack fell silent at the hands of men? His stomach is growling but the hunger he’ll endure, his pack family is out there it’s their blood he smells for sure. He stops in his tracks and raises his head up high, the terror overwhelms him as he lets out another cry. But still there’s no answer he can’t understand why, he’ll follow their trail or he surely will die. For days now he’s traveled his spirit and body gone weak, he lies down in white clover no more energy left to speak. Soon the soul hovers over this tiny, frail pup, whose future now will be guarded as his soul travels up. What right does man have to take life from a living thing, that has no way to voice its defense against a human being? The wolf is a symbol, a brother, a friend. it’s time now for action before his existence comes to an end. By Gerri K. McCann from Sacred Wolf Dreams Used here with permission. The Cry He stands alone at the top of the hill And sings his mournful cry, His mate and cubs are missing He's not certain why. He had been out hunting Was gone for only a day, And hurried back with empty jaws So scarce now was their prey. He wasn't gone long Eager to get home, But the den was cold and empty And he sensed something was wrong. The smell of man was everywhere With footprints in the dirt, And blood shed from his family He knew they had been hurt. He sat and waited day by day With hopes they would return, There wasn't much he could do Except quietly sit and yearn. Why would man come all this way To hunt and shoot them down, To interrupt their quiet lives When no harm had been done? Their territory plainly marked And not once did they stray, For they would rather starve to death Than to get in man's way. The smell of chickens, cows and sheep Were so tempting at times, But instincts warned not to hunt them Or they would lose their lives. And so they lived a quiet life Existing on small game, Careful it was only wildlife And nothing man had tamed. So he could find no reason For the blood shed on that day, So peacefully they lived here So far out of man's way. Maybe they'd be coming back His cubbies and his mate, Wolves are mated once for life So he would sit and wait. That was many moons ago And they have not come back, But he will not stop hoping For the reunion of his pack. He now knows men are murderers But still does not know why, And every night he climbs his hill And sings his mournful cry. By Karen Evans from Sacred Wolf Dreams Used here with permission.