The Snowshoe Hare
The cream esteem my winter coat,
a mink nearby agrees,
temptation wiles beyond the gloat,
a warming gentle breeze.
The juggernaut that Arctic blinds,
the absence of my food,
of barks and twigs and other finds,
the breath of Spring feels good.
Our ashen whites will prompt away,
to chestnut furriness,
we'll blend right in without delay,
Earth tones are more than less.
The thawing out of wintry days,
the freshness of the spring,
revealing plants and shoots neath rays,
the wealth this season brings.
The game afoot, who'd be the prey,
the predators are loose,
a field of grass now on display,
sweet green blades, flags of truce.
A mumbling heard neath weights of snow,
a pair of eyes are slushed,
two ears pop up to words of woe,
it's just a dream, I'm crushed!
Copyright ©
Hilo Poet
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