Imperilled

The comforting familiarity
has flickered, gasped and fled.
In its place, a disquieting dimness
a brooding moodiness reflecting
the sombre grey of the sky
the hurling wind, the
implacable chill descending
that advances awareness and an
inherited panic to the primal
consciousness of woodland creatures
evoking in them the survival
instincts that heighten in the
oncoming season. The natural
plenitude of summer and fall
has succumbed to winter's entry.
Survival resources become scarce
during those stark, white months
when they are stalked and hunted
staining the snow with sinister
symbols of the dramas played out
at these times as they become
vulnerable to the inevitability of
privation and the fears that lurk
within dark shadows of the hunt.