Poem 4 in a series retelling a classic werewolf tale:

Planted Seed of Fear
by Michael Doyle

Plant the seed
The seed of fear
As the blood moon rises
Evil comes in its disguises

The village wills to celebrate
While the hunter seeks to invigorate
Danced in its moonlit tapestry
Fools will have their pageantry

But the true hunter knows
What lurks within the shadows
Dance, dance into the night
The things seen are not a trick of the light

The warrior takes his guarded stand
Unwilling to be tricked by sleight of hand
Drink dances around and by the firelight
Evil lurks in its second sight

(c) July 3, 2020  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved