Saturday, October 31, 2009
The dead arise
The wind begins to howl and moan
A coyote is on the prowl alone
From nowhere what should appear
The devil hunting alone with his spear
He sniffs the air and knows his prey is near
He seizes the man who moans in fear
The ground opens up and they both disappear
2 comments:
Julie Prichard
10:21 AM
oohhh chilly one, Lee! Bravo!
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Tangled Stitch
1:46 PM
Great poem! I love it.
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oohhh chilly one, Lee! Bravo!
ReplyDeleteGreat poem! I love it.
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