Survival
Eyes alert,ears pricked-up
Listening,watching for sign of "danger";
Then one twig snaps.
She stops mid-step,paw frozen in the air.
Her tail bristles, growl forms
Deep within her throat.
Muscles prepare for flight,
If she must, if it were
To come to that.
Trouble is near now.
She smells it in this
Crisp autumnal air,
Senses it in her mind.
Teeth bare back, she snarls.
Four paws touch ground.
She lunges, then runs,
Throwing a trail of dust
Behind her as she flies-
Better to herself die
Then risk her young ones.
A second branch crunches-
So close behind her now.
She again pushes forward,
Runs faster, away from That-
The scent of Him who kills.
The smell is nearer yet.
The howls of "the Tame Ones"
-Her Brothers-yet Enemies-
Inflicts her with hatred
They would end her cubs' lives,
Destroy her without a thought.
Her quivering nose and mouth
Draw air in hungry gulps.
Rage fils her, consuming
Boiling so deep inside.
She has to stop. She must.
She knows what she is to do.
As she turns, she is ready.
To fight.
To kill.
To survive.
�Oct.2000 Kymberly Frick