TRACES of TREAD
By Gonzo

Through the morning's soft breeze blowing
Treads the fox with eyes all knowing,
While above the hawk soars greatly,
'cross the azure of the sky.
O're the meadow's golden flowing
Swatting at the willows growing
With it's head held high and stately
To the hoot-owl's final cry.


Through the winter's morning snowing
Treads the fox with hunger growing
To the brook's edge icing over
Where the brook trout used to swim.
All the changes in the shadow
As he flits accross the meadow
Through the fields once clothed in clover
Where the hare hid in the rye.


Through the morning's springtime raining
Treads the fox with hope regaining,
While above the robin's singing
O're the treetops rainbows ring
Chasing hare while flowers blossom
Prarie dogs, racoon, and possum.
Nearby kit and vixen clinging
To the promise of the spring.
Through the eveng's darkness falling
Treads the hunter so apalling
Omnipresent and foreboding
Casting shadows 'cross the moon.
Raise the gun, the bow, the arrow;
Send them on their path so narrow.
Thus their missles as exploding
Tear the flesh and sound the doom.


Through the nothingness so barren
Treads not fox nor red billed heron.
Nor the indian or his brother
Roam the plains at peace with God.
As the west begins to shimmer
With the oft-repeated glimmer.
Now the hunters must hunt each other ,
................................BANG !!