Sometimes when both of us have dinner
the silent wolf stops by to watch.
I hear the urgent knock on the window but
keep looking forward, keep laughing.
We talk about the constant rain and
listen to the tapping sound on the roof.
I offer you another glass.
A distant howl breaks in – metallic echo in the room.
The ocean drips and drips
cold over the plates, cold over the tablecloth.
I wipe everything clean.
The milk teeth are ready to crush new words.