Shy, yellow eyes hidden
Behind a tree ridden
With rough-textured bark
Carved with the mark
Of soft fur
Hoping not to lure
Others in
Wolves often walk alone
Trotting off through stone
Mountains and white snow
Sprinkling as fast as they sow
Wolves fur remain bristled
Frin the cold air
Their observing eyes stare
At others; yet they don’t get close
Yet, need them the most
I, too, am shy
Perfers time to myself; yet I also try
To connect with others
Mentally creating my own personal “pack”; brothers,
Parents, friends
Wolves often cover their tracks
With the snow; paws shoving and quick like an ax
Always quietly
Like me; treading silently