The Lynx
By Colleen Smith

The stillness of the winter night
Is rent assunder by the sound
The shrieking cry of a hunting Lynx
As he stalks his prey alone.

A fleeting shadow 'mong the pines
Silent stealthy poised to kill.
His eyes aglitter searching sign
A raging blood lust drove to fill.

The moonlight glistening on the snow
Makes stark the savage scene.
The rabbit gruesome in death's throe
His eyes glazed wide unseeing.

With raging hunger sated now
The Lynx goes to his den
He curls beneath the hanging boughs
When hunger drives he'll kill again.