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THE WOLF HUNT by Alan A Sandercott
The lake lies frozen
its snowy surface scarred
by the tracks of wildlife
fading from view with the setting sun.
Off in the distance
a lone wolf's mournful howl
shatters the silence of the night
a signal to the pack.
From across the lake they appear
six in all
they bound, trot, run
eager for the hunt.
A farmer hears the sounds
snarls of the hunting pack
the terrified cry of a deer
driven onto the ice
running for its life
Slathering jaws tearing flesh
muzzles stained with blood
as the dominant wolves feed
growling warnings to subordinates
who wait their turn.
By dawn the feeding's done
the wolves move off across the ice
walking slower now
bellies heavy, appetites quenched
disappearing into the morning fog.
From dawn to dusk
scavengers take their turn
coyotes close from the shadows
precious little remains for the raven.
Fresh snows begin to fall
blanketing the bloody scene
to the west the evening sky turns crimson
and from across the lake
a lone wolf howls.
|Read more of my writings online at: www.sandercott.ca/booknook/|