The threads of her feathers pierce like nails.

Acquire her favor by force to no avail.

By her tumultuous roar she’ll have no more.

“Adiós,” she said. “Usted no es mi amor.”

The wondering wolf has caught her sight.

By the way he knows just when to fight.

Not every encounter his attention requires.

Attracted one night he was to her fire.

Swaying and sweating she strode around.

Whistling and chanting she called a sound.

Mesmerized the wolf was as a child

In awe by a display of unintentional wiles.

So unabashedly feminine, tempered and proud.

Into her furnace the lone monster lingered.

His patience met her haste and in a foul swoop.

Friends or foes, what were they to do?

No threats were made and neither knew.

Cautious but calm their connection grew.

Thick and matted fur she held his hide.

Not by blood, but in mud, he knew how to hide.

Petting it gently and picking free clumps.

Although matted and ashamed she showed him love.

Abrased but smooth was her skin he did lick.

With his wet tongue of sand he continued to lap.

Until raw were her scabs would she never flinch.

Together they laid by the forest furnace and did nap.

Companions of the wilderness they became.

Renowned by their kindness, still neither was tame.

3 February 2016