By George’s Girl 2026
The Day Snow Leopard Died
She lay in the drift,
breath gone quiet.
No blood,
no struggle,
just still.
Her eyes held the slope
as if it would speak.
It didn’t.
The cold was kind
in its own way.
Slow.
Certain.
She didn’t roar.
She didn’t run.
She waited.
Then she went.
No one came.
No one knew.
The mountain
kept the secret.
The day the snow leopard died.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
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