Sarita Armstrong

And My Anger Came

 

And my anger came in the form of a wild wolf-dog

Golden in colour with eyes glowing amber;

And I tamed him and brought him into my house,

So we lived there together and I could control him,

For he loved to be with me, as I with him.

 

Some in my house grew alarmed at the dog’s

Unexpected wild outbursts; but with my finger

Through the ring of the choker-chain around his neck

I could control him, though at times

His whole head would become distorted and ugly.

 

Then I would comfort him, holding his poor head to my heart,

And we would sit quietly together in the eye of his storm.

 

Others in the house insisted I send my wolf-dog away,

My beautiful wild snarling wolf-dog, golden in colour;

For he was disturbing to them, wild as he was.

So, I did as they bid me, reluctantly, sadly,

Explaining to him that he really belonged in the wild.

 

The wolf-dog replied as I put him out through the door,

“But I have been with you since you were a child –

You fed me and warmed me until I grew strong.

Together we walked the wild hills and hunted the hare.

We were always together.” He sighed behind the glass door

 

Of the house where I stayed, lonely and silent

Amongst my happily chattering cheerful companions.

 

© Sarita Armstrong 2008

 

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