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Click hereWolf moon stalking mocking
Reflecting reflexes
young strong bold
on the rise
Walking in his shadow
I tremble
Old moon days numbered
gray face dimming
awaits night claws
cold slashing light
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 37,000 poems.
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the old man as he struggles to keep control. In the wild, the wisdom in the grey of your whiskers means much less than the ache of arthritis in your bones. Poor old wolf.
The alpha is dead! Long live the alpha!
the old man as he struggles to keep control. In the wild, the wisdom in the grey of your whiskers means much less than the ache of arthritis in your bones. Poor old wolf.
The alpha is dead! Long live the alpha!
I felt that I was reading my own lunar life here and
then realized it was Monday - i always feel like shit
on Monday. I liked the it read and what I saw.
agree with jd
the last 5 lines are perfect.
Well done! Thanks for playing!
no thermo
...to not resist the "Reflecting reflexes" line. It sounded hollow compared to the music in the rest of the piece.