Echoes In The Night Poem by Herbert Dry

A sound echoes through the night, a sound so distant, a lonely
sound
A wolf calling it's mate that cannot
be found

The creatures of the night are silent as the wolf continues
It's mournful call he tilts his head listening for his mate to
return his desperate
cry
His attempts are unanswered yet he continues
to try

Standing at the forest edge a place where native Americans
once lived now for many
years gone
Facing the wind as it blows through the trees one can hear
the children at play the women preparing a meal and the men
chanting for their way of life
a death song

The wolf ceases it's howl for it's mate
there are no echoes in
the night
The land where I now stand the native America from this
spot are gone there are no echoes
in the night

When we were children all day into the dark we would play
those days are gone there are no
echoes in the night