It seems a bit odd, which animals
Announce when the day dies, and is born.
The wolf howl heralds the moon-cast night
The cock crow calls the sun-sliced morn
Because of the wolf’s eerie emanation,
We think of the night as predatory,
Something dark and quietly shadow-slinking,
The canine hunter as a midnight allegory
And because of the rooster’s eruptive bray
That shatters the dawn’s calm, it
Makes us associate the break of dayWith the pressing desire: I really want an omelet.