Pack
My soft, glows to darkness,
Silver by moonlight.
In my woods, deep with scent.
Miles of living movement.
I pant a night humid,
keeping my back slick.
Paws ready for earth.
Waiting for her.
My mate,
pitch, and unseen.
Ebony teeth, ink her hide.
Sultry with her shadows.
Eyes there, only by reflecting stars.
She puts me in heat,
for salty red, tender.
Keeping me snarling.
Nipping at mutts, and scavengers.
Running for quick kills,
the prey deserves death.
Our prowl justified, we beasts.
Then she nudges me alive.
Her head low, bare teeth.
Tail between her breasts,
snapping me with speech.
"Run with me."
"We kill hunters, the fake meek."
"Were fast, past traps and shot."
"We run now"
"Cry to a moon with no mercy?"
"Howl loneliness latter."
"We have teeth to use."
"Lets run red-eyed, till death."
(For Matt Caliri contest)
Copyright © Johnathon Souders | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment