The StalkMoving slowly and methodically,
no screams protrude from the silent winter ground.
Its intentions are clear and nothing will halt the soundless stalk.
With his eyes piercing into the prey,
The winds blow gently against his fur, like a soft hand brushing by.
Then with sparking speed he leaps,
a quiet cry is released,
but no one hears.
[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2013 EDITION]
Copyright © 2002-2011 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2011 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.