Wolf Poem by Grace DeVon miller

In the woods i hear a sound
the wind is blowing in the trees.
The wloves are howling a twig snaps from behind me
i turn to see a wolf standing its ground.
I trun to look around and all i see is tree.
where do i go where do i turn?
will it hurt me?
or let me by?
It comes forth and lays down at my feet
i look at it then sit and pet the butifull creature
it maybe capable of murder but you can not judge.
If this butifull creature is calm and peacefull
and i can pet it thier not all bad dont you see
to judge is wrong
without a thought you will never know unless you look among the world.