Or keep up the pace in night time prowls.
I’d always fear that my new found pack
Would one day quite like me for a snack.
If I were lost in the woods so wild,
And had to become someone else’s child.
I would hope for something tall and strong,
That could stay with me my whole life long.
That puts down roots, doesn’t like to roam,
And though often leaves, is always home.
If I were lost then I wish I could
Be raised by trees in the deep dark wood.
Poem ©2016 George Kirk
Illustration © 2016 Jion Sheibani