does he remember?

the way he licks his paw,

his white coat of fur draped over

the velvet carpet,

the way his watery eyes shine,

when rooted on the ground

scouring for nourishment—

it’s like he forgets history,

forgets those times,

those times where wolves roamed,

their charcoal colored fur

frigid against sheets of snow,

their claws terrorizing

everything they touch,

everything they seek,

a treacherous glint in their

deep, glassy eyes,

and they are always malcontent

foraging for a snack,

but one is not enough,

and so it goes on—

the very way he licks his paw,

the very way his watery eyes shine,

does he

r

 e

   m

      e

        m

           b

             e

               r

                 ?