RAISED BY WOLVES
The wolves who raised me
I did not know the librarian
I was chubby and had lost a mother
I have no way to return
You may have seen me on the bus,
snuck under the library
steps in the tiny cold town,
up into the tunnel,stole
books for me. Fairy tales.
wept when she saw the muddy
paw tracks, stiff gray wolf hairs
and sighed. Another child
out there, raised by wolves.
to read to me. Crows taught mez
to snatch dresses my size, drying
on backyard clotheslines.
Magpies flew through open windows
brought me heirloom pearl necklaces,
lace caps. I was innocent.
books, cross referenced by
berry stains and bird-shit.
No way to send apologies.
not knowing which windows
and backyard clotheslines
held the joy of gifts.
slanted wolf eyes, black thrift
store dress, holding a tattered
sinister looking book. I smell
your fear or puzzlement, or you
look and smile. as if to say
"Guess who raised me?"
© 2012 Phyllis Holiday