The Wolf Pt:3

I drift through the woods, dancing and feeling free.

My feet don't touch the ground.
He's calling me 

I can't breathe

It's late, the moon is peeking out from behind the clouds, the ominous sky.

I feel the pull.

The leaves become dry, they are now brittle and breaking.
I look around me and they are covering the forest floor.

Death takes over, greens turn to browns and blacks

Decaying.

I touch; it dies 
Crumbling in my hands 

Something is lingering in the clearing ahead.
I watch through the trees for a moment, curious...
He's standing tall but twitching as if in pain.
I want to move closer, to touch him, to feel him against me to my surprise he's moved past me.

Fluid but gentle 

I want to know who he is..
I want to know but is it worth being the prey?
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace