As evening’s chill descends to icy night,

A plaintive cry rings out a mournful tune

Through trees disguised in coats of wispy white,

To resonate ‘neath iridescent moon.

 

The heavens fade from blue to vibrant black,

And stars appear, to shimmer distantly,

Illuminating as the wolves attack

Their prey, despite despairing bids to flee.

 

Then silence shrouds the land and peace returns,

And cold bites just as deep as vulpine teeth,

So deep that you might feel it really burns

Right through the skin, and all that lies beneath.

 

The potent perils of the wintry scene

Are balanced by a beauty so serene.