In response to a post by Bartholomew Barker at Living Poetry to the prompt: Write a poem with the words Arctic, slow and wolf in it.
Amber eyes peer at me in the night,
beseeching me forth into the darkness.
My walk is measured, slow,
knowing she’s out there.
Hidden by the arctic snow, the arctic wolf
is invisible against the expanse of white nothingness.
I hear a noise, the brush of a branch against another,
the soft shuffle of snow slipping from a pine bough.
My breath crystallizes on my cheeks and lashes,
a huff and a snort and she is in me!
We roll in the snow, tumbling down a small hill,
coming to rest easily against a young pine.
The massive white wolf latches onto my wrist,
hauling me to my feet beside her.
My Tala runs off into the forest,
ready for another game of hide-and-seek.
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 
Leave a reply to Bartholomew Barker Cancel reply