The Wolf I Feed at Dusk by David Anson Lee

 

L'oeil à deux Vanessa et cédric

The Wolf I Feed at Dusk

At dusk the day gathers its arguments:
sirens, headlines,
a neighbor’s anger
seeping through thin walls.

Inside me, the wolves circle.
One sharp-toothed, bright with outrage,
keeps a ledger of wrongs.
The other moves slowly,
ribs showing,
eyes worn smooth as river stone.

I carry food
without knowing it.
Every word chosen,
every silence kept,
every thought rehearsed
after dark
tilts the bowl.

Tonight, I feed the quieter one.
I give it wind in the trees,
my breath returning to itself,
the memory of a friend’s laugh
breaking a hard hour open.

The fierce wolf watches, offended,
but does not leave.
It never does.
Grief wants a mouth.

Still,
the gentler wolf lifts its head,
not victorious,
only alive,
and for a moment
the world feels less like a wound
and more like a place
I might still learn
to tend.

© David Anson Lee

David Anson Lee

David Anson Lee is a poet, philosopher, and physician living in Texas. Born on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, he explores themes of healing, grief, resilience, and the sacred dimensions of ordinary life. His work has appeared in Ink Sweat & Tears, Braided Way, Silver Birch Press, and numerous other journals.

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