Fear

Fear

Stones carry thunder when held, gently

like lynx, stalking hare. Underfoot

the snow can explode in a misstep

filling the forest with grouse

sifting the air with feathers.

Ease arrives early

and late, if at all

between bodies 

and fear. So often it erupts

triggering a slide of force

that never settles. Still 

some are masters. Ahead of death

hooves pound across the lake 

hearts pumping, pupils blown

until suddenly, moonlit, they stop to graze.