I love wolves. I love their loyalty, their no compromise character. I love the no bullshit look in their eyes, that cold stare that looks right into your soul. It is hard to believe they are first cousins to my dumb, groveling pug dog, Bud. Margadant's been posting wolf studies on his blog and in emails. I was thinking about that when I posted a comment to mw's bison photo on Facebook. When I proofed it before pulling the trigger, I liked the way it inadvertently fell out on the page ... er, screen. I thought it was worth a haiku, but alas, I find I am lacking the skills to pare down the thought to it's essence.
thundering bison
predatory eyes of wolves
tending the gene pool
3 comments:
the way this guy was looking at me, I wasn't so sure he appreciated me taking his photo Monday morning. Then he shrugged and thought to hell with it.
mw
Nice to see that you're writing occasional haiku, Gunnar. Your skills are fine (no "alas" necessary) ... and, of course, your views on bison and wolves in agreement with the Old Toad's feelings about these creatures of the plains.
Gunnar, your description of the wolf and of the bison are haiku--or, at least, poetry.
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