Canis lupis

The wolf of San Pedro
prowls dark city streets
beneath silver orb in full.  
Stealing,
shadow to shadow,
canine tendencies lead
toward open window
emitting scent
of slumbering virgins
awaiting animalistic
instruction.

In ancient tongue,
he speaks;
sound indiscernible
to human ear,
soothing wolf song
born of myth
and lore.

Fur brushing
naked flesh
mounted
one
by one;
body wraps
around,
pushing deep,
to tie,
bind predator
to game.

Canine senses
on alert:
one ear scanning
for stirring mother,
father,
brother, sister
(anyone who might
interrupt
transformation);
another tuned to
whimpers emanating from
prey beneath.

In time,
his victims’ bodies
take on form
like his own…
on fours, they move
to rhythm, all natural,
all consuming.

Both sated,
pairing complete,
he disengages
joining pack
until tomorrow
when another moon,
other conquests await.



**A special Thank you to fellow poet LobodeSanPedro, whose screen name inspired this piece.  The muse comes in many forms, thank you for being!