punk's poem

It has no title, but I think it is beautifully Punk, here is the start of his winter poem assignment:

As winter dawns near,
the critters flee from the icy layer of cold that muffles fall.
It's as if the animals are being pursued by a wave of snow.
Some birds fly away.
Some critters dig to make an underground home.
Some adapt and change to fit into winter.
Some,
fall fast asleep.
The whisper of winter chases animals into their warm shelters.