The wolves came eagerly,

Tiger-eyed and loose-limbed, their tongues licked

raw hamburger meat off the handlers’ fingers

with practiced precision.

Weaving through the crowd with ease,

their grace captivated.

Two wolves circled my son,

their handsome gray bodies curved around his like Pisces fish,

muzzles and teeth just a hot breath from his tender throat.

They nudged him playfully and knowing no better,

my boy reached out.

An arena of anxious mothers looked on,

for how quickly it came about, once safe and then not.

I held on (just barely)

to that tenuous thread of letting go.

And the wolves, after a thorough petting,

moved along.