Wolf

Fire-lit
half silhouette and half myth
the wolf circles my past
treading the leaves into a bed
till he sleeps, black snout
on extended paws.
Black snout on sulphur body
he nudged his way
into my consciousness.
Prowler, wind-sniffer, throat-catcher,
his cries drew a ring
around my night;
a child's night is a village
on the forest edge.
My mother said
his ears stand up
at the fall of dew
he can sense a shadow
move across a hedge
on a dark night;
he can sniff out
your approaching dreams;
there is nothing
that won't be lit up
by the dark torch of his eyes.
The wolves have been slaughtered now.
A hedge of smoking gun-barrels
rings my daughter's dreams.

[From 'The Glass-Blower: Selected Poems']

by Keki Daruwalla

Comments (8)

an amazing poem..drunk scenario explained very well
amazing.....a night on the town turns into a masterpiece drunken heartbreak madness in a sick, silly world.
Out of life poem, telling..........10
It's like a scene in a Frank Miller's Sin City GN.
i have a friend who dines inside me.. thats what the future holds...
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