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Lobo's Hunt

Born in the wild
Learning to survive
Before he was weaned

Cold, calculating eyes
Set upon the prey
Brindled fur
Stood on the edge of anticipation

Methodical stalking
Barely a rustle of leaves
The breeze carries a scent
Of live food afoot

Head lifts
Toward the full moon
A howl splits
The silence of the night

The hunt has begun

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

Great imagery, I was ready for the hunt with you,
Great!
Eddie C.

LIFE ISN'T ABOUT WAITING FOR THE STORM TO PASS
IT'S ABOUT LEARNING HOW TO DANCE IN THE RAIN.
VIVIAN GREENE

wonderful poem for a night such as this. Maybe "head lifts"?..................stan

This poem reminds me of Jack London's ' Call of the Wild,' I like it a lot.

lou

Stand tall, be proud to be who you are, give the world the finger!!!!

I enjoyed reading your poem. You expressed everything so well it was as if I were in the story watching it. Nicely written, very descriptive like a movie. A definite 5 star!

Pixee

A wonderful tale of the stirrings of life in the wild! I like it much!

Methodical stalking
Barely a rustle of leaves
The breeze carries a scent
Of live food afoot

love, Cat

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