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