As Evening Sets on the Yellowstone
by Paul Kern
For miles you hear the rising howl,
It sends down a fleshy shiver,
Wolves are coming off the prowl,
Over there across the river.
It starts off hauntingly slow,
Then mounts up to the sky,
The pack all joins in down below,
‘Til the howling pitch is high.
It hits you first with forlorn notes,
Drawn out in a minor key,
A dominant fifth from two silver coats,
Accompanies eerily.
A she-wolf joins in all alone,
Throat thrashing at the sky,
Letting fly a syncopated groan,
As evening drifts on by.
The primal whine is wild and high,
A call from another age,
They alone know the how and why,
As it echoes through the sage.
It starts off hauntingly slow,
With a piercing mournful moan,
The pack all joins in high and low,
As evening sets on the Yellowstone.
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