The Lone Stranger
It is an icy mist that clouds the night
A bird takes off in silent flight
An ice shard cracks as a hunter appears
Her coat the colour of frosted tears
A hunter, predator, mortal ghost
Her gaze the thing we fear the most
The wolf, the stealthy lone stranger
But her eyes not her howl speak of danger
poem by Steffi Webster
Added by Poetry Lover
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