By Lynn M. Penedo
I can hear the wolves knockin’ at my door
trying hard to claw their way in.
I resist the temptation to let them enter
knowing my tender soul would not survive.
What they offer is good for one night
bringing pleasure and companionship to my loneliness.
But in the morning reality dawns along with the sun
leaving my heart and soul empty once again.
The wolf long gone only the essence
of his masculine scent upon my skin remains.
Waxings 
Night as the place where wolves prey on the lonely and vulnerable…I feel the tension in this, Lynn. Learned wisdom is the toughest but most enduring kind.