Running at Night
Running at Night by Jeff LeMond
The harvest moon is shining bright, the air is thick and still.
An ancient battle rages on, testing. human will.
The story is unraveling, soon, it be too late.
I shall strive to stay alive, that I might elucidate.
Howling in the distance, every nerve aware.
Something runs the fields tonight, brother, have a care.
Don’t go walking near the woods, You’re better off at home.
But some folks just don’t listen. doggie needs a bone.
Young love is daring, and seldom it’s denied.
Officious was my warning, they wouldn’t stay inside.
Strolling down the old mill road two lovers hand in hand.
With canine cunning fueled by something we’l never understand.
He follows at a distance, watching as they talk.
Panting with erratic pace as they resume to walk.
At last this wolf perceives his chance, alas, he makes his move.
They see him come, they turn to run. But four legs out run two.
When the wolf has made his kill and dined with lupine zest.
He pads away through wood and field, returning to his nest.
Dreams of twilight calling him to sleep before the dawn.
It’s nearly sunrise now he knows the turn is coming on.
Home at last he burrows in to take a nice long nap.
His den is well secluded, It’s not on any map.
He starts to sleep, he starts to dream, he dreams he is a man.
A man who runs the night as wolf, with blood stains on his hand.
Eventually, he starts to wake he starts to realize.
something very bad he’s done, and teardrops fill his eyes.
What unearthly deeds preformed by him against his will.
Where on earth might I be? …How many did I kill?
Blood-soaked bed sheets strewn about, heavy is his head.
He looks around his fear redound, Safe at home in bed.
