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Wolf
by Tom Scearce
She comes to me alone
Running from a snowbound
Desolate valley of doubt
Shivering from cold
Yet fiery with passion
She tells of her native country
Stories of a river now dry
A lover now parted
A brother, lost forever
She walks confidently near me
Head inclined to the sun
Tall, lean, full of grace
I smell courage in her scent
See comets blaze in her eyes
Feel the prairie trembling at her feet
She is the presence of power
She is the absence of fear
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