Siberian tigers get cold, too,
by Denis Martindale
When Winter snow descends,
The young cubs don't know what to do
Until the season ends...
The water chills their throats each time,
Their bellies cringe in pain,
That's hardly what they'd call sublime,
But life goes on again...
The elder tigers understand
The weariness and more,
At times like these, they hate the land
And hunting's such a chore...
Endurance is their strongest hope,
A hundred days to run,
Somehow the young cubs learn to cope,
Though Winter's just begun...
The first, of course, seems quite the worst,
But years like these persist,
Reminding them each time they thirst,
That each must co-exist...
When that first silver snowflake falls
And then it snows... and snows...
Together, they can face it all,
Whatever life bestows...
Denis Martindale, copyright January 2016.
A poem based on a magnificent wildlife painting,
by artist Stephen Gayford. Google search
gayfordgallery and 'Stephen Gayford poetry'.