The Last Stand Poem by Margaret E. Kelly

On a side street hidden from view
an art gallery comes alive.
Voices rise and fall as the pictures
are examined.
Gradually the voices are stilled,
With awe upon their faces they look,
here is something to appreciate.
On a rear wall a picture is all alone
a single light above.
In the dim light the scene comes alive.
In the swirling flakes a lone cow makes
her stand, with thin ribs and soulful
eyes she awaits the wolves.
They ring about her silently waiting,
she is down at last.
Eerie howls fill the air as the echo's
join in from afar..
Fighting for her fife her destiny is clear.
Suddenly it is over and she is till,
she has made her last stand.