OR-7

Alone, yet tracked, pacifically this wolf

Has wandered through the Cascade’s mountain passes

From Oregon to California –

He hides behind the pines and in tall grasses

In mountain meadows filled with flowers, filled

With game the wolf can eat. Alone, he finds

It’s mostly rabbits, pika, squirrels that he

Can catch and eat. When full, he mostly winds

Down old elk paths. He’s looking for a pack

And cannot know he is alone, the one

Lone wolf in California – he lives

Up to the name. He basks in the warm sun

And drinks from mountain lakes whose sapphire blue

Reflects the thin-aired sky, but when the moon

Is out, his haunting howl crowds out the rounds

Of hooting owls – he hears a calling loon

Instead of what he hopes to hear – another

Gray wolf to join him on his namesake quest,

To journey on with Journey as a mate

And hope across the new Pacific West.