Lust for blood

The way it looks, in snow with paws
between a baby and a bear, brushed
with tail, from scattered snow
on crust, not melted yet.
I know she crossed our tracks the
moonlit night before.

The sun just starts to lick my
skin with warmth, lulls me
but her myths are graves,
smell of sweat
and unpillowed tears.

They say she kills
for fun. In lust for blood she
leaves a trace of death, a carcassed
fright in crimson snow – but yet
she’s just another caring mother
a wolverine with cubs.


Hannah inspires us to write about tracks at toads. One of the things that is most inspiring is to pass fresh tracks of wolverine. An animal of many myths. Especially its lust for blood. Its a fairly large animal, and the tracks it make is very distinctive. I have once seen a wolverine on a mountainside far away, and it moved in a most efficient way through the deep snow.

February 26, 2016

17 responses to “Lust for blood

  1. Oh, Bjorn!! You’ve captured this experience so well and I LOVE the note that you close on…so true. I watched a program on this amazing creature and your poem brought it all back. Wonderful! Thank you, for sharing. 🙂

  2. Northern MI used to be full with wolverines – I believe it is the state animal – just looked it up but it says it is the white-tailed deer. Well, then it must be a college mascot or something. They say the first wolverine spotting since 200 years (!!) in Michigan was in 2004. And it’s probably a good thing you saw it at a distance. 🙂

  3. Imprints of dilemma. We cannot hate her. We cannot fear her. We should just looknin awe at her prints left to remind us of her passing by

    Thanks for dropping in to read mine

    Much love…

  4. This transported me to a place so different from my own. What an amazing array of animals there is on Earth.

  5. This is such a beautiful way to illustrate an animal’s instinct for survival. I especially like the second stanza. Well done!

  6. I followed along, Bjorn. Somehow I never feared the wolf but then I never ran onto one bringing her babies along. Sometimes I miss the snow and the tales it can tell. I do remember playing ‘Fox and Goose’ with the kids.

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