How the First Meeting Might Have Gone Down

Poetry - by Lisa Timpf

wary, untamed, hungry, nosy,

captive to a vague desire

half-grown wolf pup lingers, watching

laughing humans building fire

nostrils twitching, pup breathes deeply

breezes carry meat-smell, cooking

bold decision, crucial moment

he enters cave while sniffing, looking

smiling humans offer meat-chunks

pinching ache of hunger ends

crowding man-cubs gently pat him

lonely no more, he’s found friends

next to cave wall bearing pictures

he curls up for needed slumber

artist paints a four-legged figure

now he’s counted in their number