Savages

Tiny pointed arrowheads
whisking through the morning current
air flickering candlelight
of torches looming, looming

savages, some are known
as hunters spry as wolves
but with thoughts like yours and mine

stolen in the fog of night
by lesser, more evolved
fiends
with selfish thoughts and heartless chests
beating to a wicked dance

sold like figs, like pigs and twigs
for one in nature, one with earth
is time spent, time in darker time
when dog rules wolf