The heat blaring down on the desert floor, As Akeema walked on, forever more. Her four legs were getting weary from travel, As she trudged on, over the sandy gravel. Panting for thirst, she looks to the sky, Buzzards circling above, as they glide.
She finds shade from a very tall cacti, To seek comfort from the sun in the sky. She licks her paws of very sore wounds, Grimacing with pain, as she licks and grooms. The shade fades away, as the sun slowly sets, Akeema rises slowly, so to begin her quests.
She's full of spirit, never giving up, To find the right place, to raise her pups. A pup or two she carries, waiting for birth, Heavy weight she carries, inside her girth. She comes upon some carrion, on which she feasts, Filling her stomach, on the gruesome dead beast.
Not far from the remains, was a shaded water hole, She thinks she has finally reached her destined goal. Here she will sleep, heal, and make it her den, And hopefully protect herself from all men. Akeema sups from the hole to quench her thirst, Oh it tasted so fine, it had to be first.
Secondly, she would lie down and take to rest, As the sun would start setting in the West. She sleeps and dreams of her journeys miles, Treacherous terrain, in which she trials. Kicking in her sleep, as she continues to dream, Hoping to find, that beautiful stream.
She is startled, by the screeching of a nearby owl, Seeing the moon, she lets out a hoarse howl. How...how...howlll..., She halts with an abrupt gasp, She swallows some water, before she starts to rasp. How...how...howwwwllll.., She howls with pride, Echoing in the distance, as it whispers in the night.
She is staking her claim, at this watering site, To protect her pups, from dawn to night. She will raise them here, with pride and stern, To praise them from that, of what they learn. The crickets chirp, their symphonic crescendo sound, As she sleeps in the home, in which she found.
by Robert Mosteller
Acorns fall on wolves,
many years go by.
A tree shades some wolves