Innocent victims of the cold.
Yet, even in the waning moments before their end
They retain their poise and self‑respect.
As they smack against a surface,
Expiring with a slow, painful puff of air before our eyes,
We, the unknowing bystanders, are transfixed.
Death can sometimes be a beautiful act.
We see a morbid sense of attraction to their lonely,
It's a hard‑but‑haunting realization we come to:
Nature is cruel, yet brilliant.