Like a dense and silent fog

I stalk my prey,

through the sultry heat

of an obscure jungle.

Moonlight glimmers on

the orange and black satin

of my thick fur.

I can smell the earth

and the air, heavy and wet.

The dozing calf is unaware

of my looming presence.

Soon it will be another casualty

in the blood game of nature,

and I will remain,

the essence of grace and power,

something to be greatly feared.

Danielle Shaeffer