The Final Run
Yellow eyes glow in
the dark -
fireflies amid
tree bark.
Antlers already
confused;
fear and heart ready
to fuse.
Searching for a chance
to flee
away with a prance,
get free.
Fearful eyes look to
the south,
A wolf spills drool from
its mouth.
Finally, the pack
pounces;
off the snow the hoof
bounces.
Hungry wolves begin
to hunt,
now the final run's
begun.
Points: 402
Reviews: 107
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