A Winter’s Meal.

Sniff. Sniff. I smell dinner in the air,

I saunter across the snowy tundra,

Towards the delicious smell,

The cool winter breeze taunts me,

Making dinner my foremost desire.

I set off at a jog, my brothers following in toe,

Excitedly rushing across the pillowy snow,

Towards the yummy smell not too far now.

We slow to a halt, and split up to flank our dinner.

Six of us in total, two from the north, two from the west, splitting the rest;

Into east and south, creates a safety,

For all the if, ands, and maybes.

The time has come, saliva drips from my mouth,

Down my white coat, melting the snow below.

Benny to the East let’s out a howl, signaling the game has begun!

I hear the prey dash to the west,

Much to my despair, for there awaits Felix,

Second, only to me.

As we rush to encircle the deer,

I hear a growl, followed by a cry!

The pack arrives to find the deer,

With its neck torn open, its blood,

transforming the delicate snow to vapor.

I can resist no more. I rush over and dig in.

The warmth hits my soul, thank you deer;

Without you we would surely have starved.

-C. Friedman

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

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