In the nights final shadows,
near a field, with low cut grass, set with snow,
I stalk my lone prey, who has strayed from its
herd to a thin patch trees, and thickets, and
who is unaware of its seemingly imminent death
SNAP!
Stepping on a twig,
covered by the freshly fallen snow,
I have alerted the lone elk,
that even as i am not seen,
my presence is concealed within stalking shadows.
Then, in one swift action,
the elk leaps from its graze and,
bounds for the rest of its herd,
who quickly realizes the situation,
and its related dangers,
and sprints for the nearest forest line.
In an instant they are gone,
leaving me lone, and prowling,
within the nights final shadows.
By Wolf King
|
Email this Poetry
|
Add to reading list






