Lisa Jarnot


As in the old days

for the wolves who speak

because themselves are

old, in trees, silent,

in the trees above the

heads of silent wolves,

the old and silent wolves

in trees who there are

quiet in the trees that

are so old themselves,

the wolves who eating

soup from cans are old,

the cans of soup that

are as old as wolves,

and I am old this year,

older than the trees or

all the wolves, in their

houses with the heaters

and the stoves and t.v.s

and the cans of soup,

and this is my old song,

that the wolves sing

from the trees, that

the wolves have sung

in dreams.

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