[Poem] The Wind Chaser

 

A blur of brindled lightning, a whisper of grace,

The greyhound sprints forward, with a heart in its chase.

Across the open field, the wind in its ears,

A symphony of muscle, dispelling all fears.

 

Coursing through the tall grass, a spirit unbound,

Chasing the unseen, on sacred ground.

A flash of silver, a rush of pure joy,

The greyhound's true nature, unleashed to deploy.

 

But the sprint comes to an end, the chase finds its rest,

A gentle sigh escapes, from the tireless chest.

Back to the comfort, of a loving embrace,

The wind chaser slumbers, with a smile on its face