A flash of silver in the night.
Paw prints found by the moon’s light.
Farmers gather with their guns, and leave at home wives, daughters, and sons.
Another sheep lost to fang and claw.
Farmers blame the pack they saw. Into the forest they began to hunt.
Vowing never to rest and fighting the cold front.
Up ahead, came a howl, a long, slow cry.
The farmers froze as it pierced the sky.
A lone wolf, black as night,
stood on the snow-covered path bathed by the harsh moonlight. Suddenly, all around, came sounds of hate.
The farmers realize that the
sheep was just bait.
Slowly they came out of the shadows.
Grey, black, and white and more were to follow.
This was the wolves’ revenge for what a mother lost.
Pup killed by farmer’s hand and now comes the cost.
Farmers ready their
weapons and wolves gave a hateful snarl.
But one silver she-wolf identified the one called Carl.
For he was the murderer
whose sheep she took.
He saw her hatred and wished for his prayer book.
With a howl, they attacked.
The men fought bravely and
that’s a fact.
But sadly outnumbered they stood no chance.
Blood stained the snow as wolves leapt in a ghost dance.
Some got away but never spoke
of that snowy night filled with blood and gun smoke.