I am currently reading The 90-Day Memoir: Tell the Story of Your Life by Alan Watt. Each chapter begins with a quote. I wanted to share this one because I thought it was profound. There’s some debate online about the origin of the quote, whether it came from a Cherokee legend or from somewhere else. But either way, the words are worth noting.

It also reminded me of a poem I wrote about a wolf several years ago.

The Mystery of the Wolf

A summer evening in upstate New York—
a backyard sprinkler hisses
while the smell of fresh-cut grass
is pungent and delicious.
Crickets chirp and a coffee-colored mare
snorts from across the barbed-wire fence.

I am alone, kicking a soccer ball,
when a gray wolf emerges from
the high weeds lining the fence.
I try to run, but my legs lock up,
and I tumble to the ground.

The wolf circles me,
then sweeps in on my limp frame.
I can hear its stomach growling
as it hovers over me.
The tongue is extended
and drool splashes my face.
The wolf takes my neck in its mouth,
but does not bite down.

And I wake up in my bed,
thankful that the encounter is just a dream.
I am safe, and no wolf invades my room.
Yet I remain troubled,
afraid of closing my eyes,
drifting back to sleep
and ending up at the mercy
of another predator.

Previously published in the collection Dreaming of Lemon Trees: Selected Poems by Francis DiClemente (Finishing Line Press, 2019).