Crow and Wolf

 

Crow and Wolf

By Victoria Vassilious

 Sandy terrains,

Disintegrating remains;

A bloated carcass is displayed

Upon a barren pasture.

A long lost domestic set “free” by its master.

 

A crumbling wooden fence;

Long since dilapidated.

It has become a home to-

A solitary black widow;

Who swirls and spins;

Waiting for her next victim.

 

The dying red oak houses the single black Crow;

Sunrise… to sunset… he protests!

Desperate for his flock;

Who has long since gone for greener paddocks.

Encounter the solitary red wolf.

Who cries to the moon each night.

 

Racing through the woodlands,

Searching for his long lost pack.

He soon learns how to adapt,

Yet game is scarce, his amateur skills are inept.

Quickly the wolf has become gaunt,

Crimson coat grows unkempt.

 

Wild golden irises flash towards the shriek of the Crow

If only he might climb that ancient Oak,

Gnash his teeth against its throat;

And feast upon that dreadful croak.

 

A vivid black and blue blur soars overhead

Downward plummeting chunks of flesh, gore and bloodshed.

Wolf hurriedly grinds his canines into the dirt

Silently appeased to meet his new acquaintance in this wretched black Bird.

Black beady eyes regard him in admiration;

“Perhaps this unpleasant mutt could be of some use…

When his behavior becomes less obtuse.”