The light was fading when I heard it growl,
At thunders thronging threshold,
A pressure crowding at my ears,
Apprehension, angst that chilled the soul,
Where predation stalked the shadows,
Sought the weak, the sick, the dying,
Followed fast the fear, sweet honeyed scent,
For fang and fur, borne rushing past by bang of blood,
Propelled by pad of paw, eyes dark burning coals
That fired the night with dark intent,
The hunt was on.
The City shrunk, skin shivered,
Goosebumped, a cold chill caress,
It knew the Wolf was at its door.

© Greg Richards

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