The Wolf

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  • Animals

    The Wolf

    The smell of the forest Excites my blood.
    The wetness of the leaves freshen the air.
    The damp earth beneath my paws lift my spirit.
    My hot breath comes out as puffs of mist in the Arctic air.
    I watch the silent forest for danger.
    I lift my head and let my song lift into the starry sky.
    One by one my family join till we are one voice.














    By Crystalin Patrick 6/13/2009

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    BCP commented on The Wolf

    06-27-2009

    nice poem of the wolf pack, very visonal of the scene. sincerely

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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