this is the first in a series called the wood series (poems) check it out! link to my portfolio:http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/member18842.html
The Midnight wolf
The snow falls,
Onto the dark, hard ground.
It dances through the bare trees,
Singing softly.
He is there.
He watches.
He Listens.
His coat is snow white,
His eyes coal black.
As the trees creak and sway,
He stands poised, and ready.
For what you may ask?
For you,
For spring.
For the world to catch up.
The Midnight wolf is always there.
Watching, Listening.
Always.
