THE TROPHY
Written September 1991
By Me
~
The legs hung from the tree
The knife lay
In the life prints
On the ground.
~
Bits of winter coat
And pieces that were no good alone
Were all that remained,
No longer warm.
~
The wind paid homage to the life lost
The young raised their heads
To sniff the air
He wasn't coming home.
~
Oh, so proud...so strong!
Dropped by a sound he never heard
"Meat"
They said.
~
But the sad-eyed head
And the crown of horns
Said
"Trophy".
