404 dire wolf skulls from la brea tar pits

what do you know
about resurrection? 
we used to sing until the moon cracked open
& all the little gods came out.
on the television a movie plays
about our bodies. sharks & blood
like silk in the water. every story
is a story about wolves. the two-legged come
& feed their children
into a video machine. we wait
& hope they get on all fours &
say something that makes sense.
instead, they run. harvest
our skulls from the tar pits. we were
not collectors. there is a legend
in our language about one great wolf
the size of a monstrous tree.
it became so restless that it broke
into thousands of us. still, we are always
seeking that union. the moment when
together we will walk the whole continent.
when all the winds will point
in one direction. pull the grass 
like wild hair. sometimes i wonder if 
the humans are wolves. if maybe 
we are farther than ever from resurrection.
in the dark of the museum, we howl. 
sometimes one of them will hear us.
they'll stare into the glass until 
their skull is one of ours. jaw 
& ragged teeth & tar-black bone.