Ninja and a wolf

Honestly I think this one stands as a poem on its own

Its mouth hung open.
Two threatening canines,
Gape in menace.
I thought it would be gone by now,
Scavenged. Thrown out.
I cover its eyes
And say sorry.
Silly.
It's not my fault,
Just seems like a waste.

I move past,
Razor-sharp quills,
A bloated stomach,
And stiff paws stretching up, up, up.
On down the winding trail.

The sun set while I stared at death,
Casting an other world of reflected light
Not yet dark, no longer day.
The in-between place,
Where bloated porcupines wake
To rustle in the brush.

Trees, bushes and rocks,
Hover outside themselves,
In dull, grey halos.
Black limbs claw a starless sky,
And cows low, a drawn out moan.
Calling me back to sunlit meadows,
Sultry summer afternoons and dancing butterflies.