Beware the Winter’s Beast

Zoe Harris

Shrouded in night— a figure waits—
Muscle and matted fur maim
Its frame— bony and grotesque—
Bare skull that horns ordain

Headlights cut through inky darkness—
The beast’s empty sockets
Shine back— white as the drifting snow—
It steps from the thickets—

A screech breaks the screaming silence,
Life now frozen and frayed—
And as the folklore does caution—
A deer prances away.