A wolf became trapped
    in our cellar.
        He pawed and nuzzled the walls
 
whimpering.
    He rolled on his back
        white throat and underbelly

naked.  He howled for his tribe,  
    but the Mexican
        gray-hairs had scattered.
 
Orphaned—
    cast out
        from the forest womb

he thought of the leaf-clump,
    a yawp 
        at the tender mouth's

cave, longed for
    his milk-teeth.
        A phone rang in the graveyard

night,
    and I awoke to white
        fleece on my pillow.