A Drowning Youth

The wolf desires a taste of innocence,

He seeks what no one else is looking for,

For one who is of little consequence,

Yet in his claws, it holds a great allure.

God speaks there with a louder eloquence,

Breaking over the waves of water there,

The strident wind is loud, like howling,

The vacant glance, the disembodied stare,

From that hunger, a stomach growling,

A cold sweat, and relentless shivering,

An eye more like a hollow than a stream,

A heart more like a surrendered canoe,

Set on a bank, unseen, and yet in view.

I know for certain, the owl will scream,

Where waves lap over the sand, tirelessly,

A place much older than the age of man,

A torn net caught on the branch of a tree,

The splintered oar, floating since time began.

What fisherman wades slowly through this truth,

And answers the call of a drowning youth?