Wolves

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Wolves are not hiding. Peering out between the trees. Watching, waiting, patient,passive. NO, not these. Their gold eyes gleaming,glowing, as bright as the moon above. Hidden by nature's veil. Trees bend in reverence to their presence. Wolves do not shift, they do not move. Silent, waiting. Which of us will move first? I tremble,I shake, as a wild flower caught in a breeze. Are these silent spirits waiting for me? A sudden shift of air and light. Now my wolves are in flight.



( penned by Deadserious )



This was a class exercise. We had to write a descriptive prose, repeating sounds and letters. Let me know what you think. )