Moonwolves

The pack hurtles across the crater:
a volley of bodies;
salvoes of flying feet and jaws
and tails trailed like banners.

Each footfall leaves
a slow silver fountain.

What is it they hunt?
Onager or wapiti, wildebeeste, moa?
(Once it was a two-legged ghost
that vanished as they struck.)
Lumbering aurochs or swift stiltlike dinornid,
at the end it falls under
their teeth in
a welter of
microprocessors, effectuators,
metal shards and
a strangely satisfied hunger.

As shadow spills into their bowl
they climb its central peak to await
icy death’s return.

And when darkness laps their feet
they lift their heads to
mourn the blue-white world in the sky.

About the Author

John Park

John Park was born in England but moved to Vancouver as a graduate student in chemical physics. He now lives in Ottawa where has done research at the National Research Council of Canada and been part of a scientific consulting firm. His short fiction and poetry have appeared in a number of North American and European publications, in English and in French and German translations. In September 2012 his novel, Janus, was published by ChiZine Publications.