Winter Tracker...

When Winter came, the wolf was sad, His heart began to chill, No more the easy times once had, Yet still the need to kill... And so the tracker, eyes and ears And nose to sense his prey, Perhaps to overcome his fears That he might die today... The snow was crispy to the touch, A giveaway each time, That's why it didn't help as much When he was forced to climb... But if he stood alone in wait, Perhaps his luck might change, Despite the fact to hesitate Felt really, really strange... But patience often proves the key, The slow down to a crawl, When hunting's like a mystery Drawn out when hunters stall... The wolf survives without remorse, He's callous through and through... Starvation grants no other course, So what else can he do? Denis Martindale, copyright January 2016. A poem based on a magnificent wildlife painting, by artist Stephen Gayford. Google search gayfordgallery and 'Stephen Gayford poetry'.