Posted: October 28, 2011 in Uncategorized



The long, dry tongue of the ravine

carving through the core of this

enchanted meadow,


that’s where I came across the

decayed husk of an Elk, who,


for whatever reason, had met his

end, and now was closed forever

to the dusk raining its paw upon

his melancholy stillness.


I imagined his once regal form

poised above the craggy cliffs

of the Sangre de Cristo

mountain ranges that he called home.


A time when time meant nothing

to him but when creek beds roared

with life from summit springs.


Where, perhaps, he saw, on rare

occasion, that intrusion of man

forcing their way into those

wild parts he would never have



He had hid so well for so long,

finally giving up the fight,

giving in to a greater good he

could neither rectify much less



alas surrendering to

elemental dangers beyond his

reasoning or control.


I hope that age took him instead.

That he sired many a doe with

mates and got lost in crimson

sunsets beating across his mahogany



I hope he heard the cry of a wolf

one last time before both their intermingled

fates and instincts met with a final silence.


I guess he once lifted muzzle

to snow drifts glittering that

ethereal loneliness,


felt each nightly star follow

him with a blended array of both

silhouettes thawing to magic shadow.


Lastly, I hope, like that star,


he fell out of the sky with

equal majesty.


~ ~

© Copyright 2011 ♥Susan Joyner-Stumpf


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