Gasping, breathless, loping run,
Through mist filled hollows between the pines
Pass through shadows, then into the sun.
Though narrow places, single line.
Gather high upon the mound
Eyes are searching for their prey,
Upon the breeze the distant sound,
Of one who’s lost, can’t find the way.
Back to the trees they quietly run.
Blending with the darkened places.
Swiftly move, avoid the sun.
Icy wind against their faces.
Deep within the forest dark,
She stands unmoving in the snow
Around her pines grow tall and stark,
She’s lost, not knowing where to go.
The hunter’s scent drifts on the air
She swiftly hides within the trees.
Behind a snow bank hides with care,
That those who’d pass her place not see.
The falling snow will hide her track.
Hoping the breeze not betray her scent
Into the trees, no looking back
Pursuers not knowing where she went.
Into the clearing the hunters appear
Pausing, looking around, sniff the air.
Upon the breeze they smell the fear.
Death comes swiftly from this hunting pair.
Peace descends upon the scene
Fresh snow glistens in the sun
The scarlet stains show where they’ve been
Footprints, mark the path the Wolf has run.
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Tami
Cinda