into the long dark (a poem)

[Stockworth]

Hi everyone! This came to me after a harrowing experience on Coastal Highway. A little dramatic embellishment might have fleshed this one out.

still steaming

the remains of the deer

brought us together

in the cutting cold wind

the wind cuts like a blade

stalks the fringes of my coat

spies the little places

that might let a little bit of heat out

to be eaten by the snow

our weight sends ripples

through the rimed sea-surface

but a butcher's work can be done

before the ice opens up

and lets hypothermia in

creaking and groans

fill the white-out dark

and a snarl of white teeth

lopes out of the fog

lupine

eyes twinkle

in the sputtering glow

of the last road flare

teeth snap

and the ice barks its discontent

fingers that shook like my grandfather's

inch down towards the rifle stock

finger bones that grew in my mother's belly

crack with cold

as they form the never-familiar-enough grip

of a hand ready to kill

a muzzle

frost-shot and weathered

floats through the eddies

between the battered sights

of an old .303

the ice sings its displeasure

two steps closer

a lunge

a tightness

a crack

a coldness

only one hunter remains

[bethany]

Very nicely done, thanks so much for sharing.