(Wolves were reintroduced in Wisconsin, then wolf hunting was reinstated.)
Autumn’s chill, carving north woods amber leaves
deadfall, inevitable, just not so literal, please
silent whispers, padding the soft forest floor
beauty and stealth, grey ghosts pace as in times before
Once again they hunt their ancestral grounds
returned by our hand, a second chance found
their lives taken in the simple stroke of a pen
again, as many times before, we sin, and sin again
So much given to us, in trust that we betray
stubborn, stupid children, we must have our way
shepherds of the damned, into self-pleasure we delve
when the only thing we care about is… ourselves
For sport without purpose, we lay lives to waste
beauty and grace fall to a trigger pulled in haste
Stoic Poetry
Through The Cracked Window (Revisited) 