The blue of the of the moon
The white of the snow
The fierce cry of a pack on the go

More than one force at work tonight
The green of the grass hidden sprouting from beneath
The sliver of what's hidden in a concealed sheath

Sharpened senses in terror
Paws and feet slam to ground running
Match wits against a hunter's cunning

Under the cold; a race for life
Prey squints, it missed a turn
So close now, their lungs burn

Sharp tools withdrawn
The red of death complete
Lone prints leave in defeat

Mother Nature smirks at the scene
Even after, the beauty remains
And everything continues the same