Monadnock Wolves

There were Wolves there once on the crown
A sanctuary beneath towering old growth
For people who could call Wolf brother
As the Romans called Wolf their mother
But… for the invaders in the valley below
It was a den, a lair, a forbidden hideaway
So they burned to bare rock those mighty trees
Now rock-ribbed Monadnock bares her bald
Head and shoulders breaking through clouds
A cone of a mountain rising from a flat plane
A Monadnock for the people who inhale the land
Breathe the laughing rivers that float them here
             Merrimack, Contoocook, Piscataquog

To hear again voices from before the fire
Tribes who knew the summit green and tender
Tell tall tales of Wolf – his truth and his beauty.