Monday, May 17, 2010


Fox Drive
(Ca. 1948)

hundred men strong
gathered at dawn
in a circle
round rolling pasture
cudgels in hand
drawing the noose
tighter around the
unsuspecting quarry safe
in their den
stunned to alarm
by sounds above
and around on
the ground where
they ran freely
now testing for
a breach in
the line circling
their waning freedom
on blunt edge
of roughhewn
club opening fir
splitting bone
spitting blood stilled
into a pile
of wide-eyed wonder
at the sudden
end in a
contest of uneven
odds and I
standing in stunned
silence at the
slaughter of innocent
predator at the
hands of placid
farmers aflame with
revenge sworn to
a silent code
that answered to
the call of
blood in warmth
of noonday sun

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