Wolverine Tracks in the Snow

· by · in dVerse, poetry, sonnet. ·

Wrapped in the dusk, through depths of the snow
My poem is a wolverine searching for prey
It follows scents of blood feeding its growth.
Swiftly fluid, poem and shadow mutually grey,

My poem leaves in its tracks hunger and death
crossing the mountain into the valleys deep
following fever of deer to its final breath
my poem writes itself as the world is asleep.

My poem slumbers at dawn, sated and filled
putting trust in edge of its teeth and its claws.
and the nights to follow with guts to be spilled
the track of my poem can never be thawed

until the morning a hunter have tracked me
when snow is stained red by the foot of my tree.

Image created with Bing

Today Dora hosts dVerse with a prompt using Carol Ann Duffy Bees from The Bees: Poems (2016) (source) and Ted Hughes (1930-1998), The Thought Fox from The Hawk in the Rain, 1957 (source)   writing a poem of any animal of our choice (real or mythological) as a metaphor for how ideas and words take shape for you on a blank page.

January 9, 2023


55 responses to “Wolverine Tracks in the Snow”

  1. The kill or be killed stance towards poetry is a little frightening, and yet wholly natural in the way a poem feeds on the poet’s imagination, memories, psyche as well as the reader’s. A wonderful, mysterious take, Björn.

  2. For me, it is letting your passion and hunger for words lead you to whatever it is, embracing darkness and death (final breath). The third stanza stands out for me with: my poem can never be thawed. The wolvering is a powerful muse.

  3. A stunning sonnet, Björn, and I love the idea of a poem as a ‘wolverine searching for prey’. I know that situation when a ‘poem writes itself as the world is asleep’. You might want to amend ‘My poem leave in its tracks…’ to ‘My poem leaves in its tracks…’

  4. A poem may be a wolverine, or it may be a shark that needs to keep swimming else it dies in still water. A shark with gaping teeth, each tooth a verse in iambic pentameter, each pentameter a blood drop from a previous meal . . .

    Come visit my blog, and leave some comments, if you like

    http://www.catxman.wordpress.com

  7. I love that the way you wrote it, it can feel not just like the hunt, but thrill of the chase and finally catching up and confirming that all of the wildness of the inspiration – was real. I am also loving and am curious about both of us using the colour ‘gray’ in these poems; it, to me, speaks of neutrality and open-mindedness, during the ‘hunt’ or the process of writing – instead of succumbing to the Black or White.

  11. On the hunt for words, the quest continues onward. Leaving imprints where one travels.

    Happy New Year Bjorn!

  13. Björn, the imagery of the poem and the wolverine intertwined, swiftly fluid and mutually grey, is evocative. The parallels drawn between the poem’s hunger for words and the wolverine’s hunger for prey create such a powerful metaphor… Well done!

    ❤
    David

  17. Poor wolverine. But they read a lot of headlock, and they mean a little buggers. Nice Björn ! 🙂✌🏼🫶🏼

  22. I enjoyed reading this piece, Björn! Not only does it conjure the primeval need to survive (through writing), but also to grasp a momentary experience and make it last. My heart throbs, my nostril smells blood, my being feels the hunt. Powerfully written 💜

  27. Interesting poem in so many ways, Bjorn. First is that it is set in winter. I like how the wolverine both tracks its prey and is being tracked at the same time. Love this line:
    “my poem writes itself as the world is asleep.”

    The wolverine is the State Animal of Michigan.

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