(07) The Pack Of Four Is No More

Poem By J.B. LeBuert

They had begun the trip back to their place of birth.
Killing as they went without caring their food's worth.
They moved with stealth and grace, like a well-oiled machine.
Their lack of fear would cause the demise of one teen.

One cannot kill without severe consequences.
You can't go through your life and burn all your fences.
This quad pack had no conscience or moral desires.
The primal game was death, to quench their inner fires.

One night while stalking another innocent prey,
Regardless of their situation, come what may.
The runt of the group didn't see the danger sign.
She was destined to die and to be left behind.

They were plodding through and stalking in the dank swamp.
No one heard the fifteen foot alligator chomp.
The game was over almost before it began.
Indiscriminate killing is a poor game plan.

The remaining threesome didn't know what to think.
They had brought down a swamp deer and began to drink,
Before anyone saw that they were only three.
They sniffed the foul air and listened for the runt's plea.

They had a great bond for each other until death.
It had come with life, and remained to the last breath.
The early hours of that day were spent in a search
For their beloved runt, found near a dead swamp birch.

The grief in their hearts was heard in their lonesome howls.
They mourned for the days of play and meat in their jowls.
The Shewolf lost her favorite daughter and friend.
Many empty lonesome days the three would now spend.

Hunger now set in for those remaining alive.
It was back to killing, and you had to survive.
They would never forget what they had had before,
But now they must face, The Pack of Four is No More.

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Other poems of LEBUERT

(02) Shewolf Is Back

Shewolf did prefer to stalk in the twilight hour;
She'd drag some back to the lair, for all to devour,
It was matter of choice, not an obsession.
I viewed with my camera, that's my confession.

(19) The Creator

The posse of twenty was still gone on the hunt.
The sixteen wolves were fleeing from the hunter's front.
The trackers and hunters had supplies that would last.
It was raining hard, and the trail was fading fast.

(01) Serious Stuff

Dawn had approached and it slinked and slithered about.
It smelled the strong odors with its pointed short snout.
It knew how to hunt, creeping down and staying low,
The saliva began to secrete and to flow.

(03) The Shewolf Pups

Before the floods came, Shewolf abandoned her brood.
She did it to survive, this showed She was quite shrewd.
They had learned what they needed; now they were alone.
They stayed put when She left, they were now on their own.

(04) The Search Begins

The rain came in torrents as the wet monsoon raged.
The Shewolf pups headed south, that’s what they had gauged;
Drenched to the bone, with a raging river to ford;
They now wanted to cross, without losing their hoard.