The Song of SilverWolf

Leaves
brown, yellow,gray
blown skittering
on asphalt

The wolf pads silently
alone, solitary, invisible
blown with the nightime leaves

Only asphalt, concrete
there is no forest

Only neon
there is no moon

The SilverWolf raises his head
and his voice

And awaits the guns

Isnala Mani

October 1, 2000