The wolf bays, as sundown falls.
He's singing to the moon.
Hark his fearsome calls.
Big in stature, almost screaming, as his ******* swoon.
Running through the undergrowth,his pack aside.
That pack ventures forth.
Due north of course.
There's an elk in the open, grazing,
A little late I know.
Hears the baying wolf coming,
Off he goes.
Fellows from the pack of lupines,
Left eating worms,
Got no grub.
Ain't got no satisfaction.
Maybe tomorrow night.
If they stay silently out of sight.
(c)LIVVI