Wolves

in writing •  7 years ago 

Windless the brittle air, snowfall barely silent, colours of white.
Crystal costume of winter adorns vast expanses.

Even in the deepest of snow we move on, in the darkest places we see,
the coldest nights will not stop us.

We travel distances because we can,
we hunt together because it works.

Time is our friend whom we meet with patience,
closeness our warmth and strength.

Our knowledge is hidden in the creases of hills,
reflected on clouds, sung in the wind.

And as we move through our landscapes,
we hunt, not for answers but for questions.

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