The old lone wolf sniffed
On the mountain breeze.
He got to the cliff
and sighed at the trees.
He was a sad gray wolf
The pack had run him off
After his mate had died and
Nights to the moon, he cried
He ate field mice and one tear
Fell when he tried to catch a deer
He grew thin and sick
Poisoned by the farmers he quit
He found the long trail that is full of quail
—Mark Stonesifer