Donald Meikle Poet Bio

Deep Freeze

the crunching of frozen leaves
loud at each carefully mistimed step
tells the occasional small sentinels
birds squirrels and small creatures 
a larger being is coming through
their alarm filters through ahead
novice woodsmen use bare ground
disturbing less birds alarming more prey
the cold penetrates the wooly layers
sinking into rib bones and upper thighs
his eyelids squint to cover the sockets
as he breathes warmth into his body
spreading it slowly and deliberately in
concentrated effortless habit
he's older now and can't take a stand
for as long as he used to
glasses are needed  to aim properly
but where to look is ingrained skill
he has cut right on his rising scent 
as he climbs the hardwood hillside
wondering if  bigger bucks are left handed
most circle right and he's a meat hunter
a glimpse of white stops all his movement
together they are frozen in time

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