A Wolf Called Something

Something is approaching
the edge of my land
a wolf that won’t back down.

Something tells me
to pluck a few twigs
from my nest
let it splay open
all the way,
let the wind
make use of it now.

Climb down from your tree
and follow the ground
off the edge of your land.

I’m grateful that Something is soft
and shrewd enough
to circle me, not pounce.
This way, I don’t feel snuck up on.
This way, I have the space to give
the only answer that
Something will settle for:

Yes, I am coming.

. . . . . .

This poem of mine originally appeared on Bentlily.com

Bentlily.com and founder-poet Samantha Reynolds invites you to write one poem a day as “the art of noticing your life.”

Or!… click on the Instapoem button here and a poem will be magically crafted about You, for You. (An idea so sassy I wish I’d thought of it.) Begin, grasshopper: