READERS OF LOAM
81
There, in the balsam grove, he built a flame
And cedar shelter against the frost of night.
And yonder, where the jasper cliff juts out
Over a sea of combering valley pines,
Like any wolf that freezes on a butte
And spills the hunger of his solitude
Into the desert coulees, he flung his call,
And waited for a dusky mate to answer. . . .
And cedar shelter against the frost of night.
And yonder, where the jasper cliff juts out
Over a sea of combering valley pines,
Like any wolf that freezes on a butte
And spills the hunger of his solitude
Into the desert coulees, he flung his call,
And waited for a dusky mate to answer. . . .
Here, with the cunning of a cougar, he made
A wide detour, scenting a tainted air,
The strychnine in the carcass of a deer;
And there, where the junipers are trampled down
And beaded with blood, he put a careless foot
Upon a trap and felt the crunch of bone
Between sharp teeth unyielding as a badger's;
Yonder, with ugly laughter on his lips,
He set his naked hands upon the trap,
And forced its jaws to gap with bloody mirth;
And winning free, he went his way again. . . .
A wide detour, scenting a tainted air,
The strychnine in the carcass of a deer;
And there, where the junipers are trampled down
And beaded with blood, he put a careless foot
Upon a trap and felt the crunch of bone
Between sharp teeth unyielding as a badger's;
Yonder, with ugly laughter on his lips,
He set his naked hands upon the trap,
And forced its jaws to gap with bloody mirth;
And winning free, he went his way again. . . .
Here! on this lookout ridge at timber-line,
With sun cascading over him, he sprawled
Deep in the wintergreens, and sank his pain
In mellow dreams—he gave himself to beauty:
With sun cascading over him, he sprawled
Deep in the wintergreens, and sank his pain
In mellow dreams—he gave himself to beauty:
