Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The wolf bays, as sundown falls. He's singing to the moon. Hark his fearsome calls. Big in stature, almost screaming, as his ******* swoon. Running through the undergrowth,his pack aside. That pack ventures forth. Due north of course. There's an elk in the open, grazing, A little late I know. Hears the baying wolf coming, Off he goes. Fellows from the pack of lupines, Left eating worms, Got no grub. Ain't got no satisfaction. Maybe tomorrow night. If they stay silently out of sight. (c)LIVVI
0
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 6:05 AM UTC
WOLVES
The wolf bays, as sundown falls. He's singing to the moon. Hark his fearsome calls. Big in stature, almost screaming, as his ******* swoon. Running through the undergrowth,his pack aside. That pack ventures forth. Due north of course. There's an elk in the open, grazing, A little late I know. Hears the baying wolf coming, Off he goes. Fellows from the pack of lupines, Left eating worms, Got no grub. Ain't got no satisfaction. Maybe tomorrow night. If they stay silently out of sight. (c)LIVVI
olivia-kent
Written by
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 6:05 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem