Adopted by wolves,
The baby was.
Taken on a heavy moon night
When the wet grass turns to ice, and the wind investigates what the day left behind.
The gray mother-wolf carried the tiny boy
Through the hollow and into the forest.
Brushing his tiny face against soft leaves
And supple branches, until turning twice she curled up with the babe
And fell asleep.
The baby lay for a while in the heavenly fur,
Snuggled with the warm animal, smelled
The dog smell,
Framed by the damp forest scent
and looked out past the fur and leaves,
glimpsing the silver apples of the moon.
This baby, raised on bitter wolf milk
Grew stronger and dog-wise
Until one day, in a clearing, when the boy was older,
The pack saw humans on a brown leaf path.
They froze, and turned, fleeing into the thick trees
Of that autumn palace.
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