Ancient Passage

a poem by James Sherard, USA

The howl of distant wolves
On a windswept plain I roam
Their primal wail, and mournful cry
A portal that leads me home

The bitter cold, the crunch of snow
The evenings first star appears
I stop to rest, my breath comes fast
My kirtle stained with tears

The chill of night, a fire I make
Its warmth a lovers touch
I search the sky, I call your name
My heart I gently clutch

My eyes grow dim, sleep gently falls
The pain and fear are gone
I see your smile, my hand you take
And lead me to the dawn

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