That Night There Was No Rest In The Forest (Septilla / Spanish Septet) Poem by Gert Strydom
That Night There Was No Rest In The Forest (Septilla / Spanish Septet)
That night there was no rest in the forest
carnivores were preying at their best,
sneaking forward only brushing on twigs,
cold, deliberate action of killing
came about in hunger, to some chilling,
they were full of some deadly skills and tricks
putting every placid deer to the test.
Monday, September 26, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life and death
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4/25/2024 7:44:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
