Neither dog nor wolf –
he is the poor relation and the unacknowledged kin,
slinking warily among the chollas,
a tan shadow against the day,
too often disparaged and reviled –
and we, judgmentally, malign the dog in him.
Neither dog nor wolf –
but at night with whelps and virtuoso howls
that echo along the darkened canyon sides,
he hurls an old resentment toward the silent moon
or answers the drifting wail of a distant siren –
and we, reluctantly, admire the wolf in him.
