A ginger fox
Her sleek fur speckled white,
from downy flakes
She trudges through heavy fallen snow
Carrying a goose carcass in her mouth,
Hurrying,
she paces through slushy pools of melted snow,
pausing only for a glance,
A cabin
framed by emerald pine trees,
trimmed with silver lights
and hanging icicles, translucent and sharp
A scented bonfire crackles merrily in the stone fireplace,
the aroma tickling her sensitive nose
Soon back on the trail,
she trudges, leaving delicate paw prints behind
Silence veils the scene
The late evening moon rises,
while stars peak through the dark night curtain
She arrives at last,
her den entrance now framed with snow
Hurrying inside to her hungry cubs,
offering her feast of goose
Soon satiated,
they curl together and drift into a deep, winter's sleep