jars are full
peaches and apples
smiles are seen
laughs of the children
then like a knife cutting through the wind
silence in the trees
not even a mouse scurries
the wolfs are hungry
the wolfs are angry
the wolfs will feast
on the children's  
bones and blood
the wolfs don't care about the summer
the one they planed
the wolfs care of only one thing
and that's there stomachs
that rumble hungrily