The Lone Wolf

You may think it glamorous
to wait indefinitely
half way up my mountain
tail between legs.

A soft focus mist
curling over peaks
a little path stretching away endlessly
but I'm dog tired.

I've lost my pack
lost the scent
and I wait for a deer
or red riding hood.

It's a grey day-
I know I'm moth-eaten-
eaten up worrying
wondering if another meal's coming my way.

In one hour-
I'll go back
up the hill and see if I can't
bark or howl.

That way
the wild boar should get going
and keep
soul and hide together!