A REFUGE FOR POETS WHO WRITE IN THE LYRIC TRADITION,
WITH RHYME AND METER, WITH OR WITHOUT MUSIC
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COUGAR IN THE WILD
I saw a cougar in the wild.
He did not know I saw.
I stood excited as a child,
Watching him in awe.
His fur was of the lightest brown,
And not a mark upon him,
And as I stood I wished I could
Have photographed or drawn him.
He prowled a lofty mountain pass
Not fifty meters wide,
Carpeted with alpine grass,
With cliffs on either side.
There have been no cougars here,
The experts say, for ninety years.
But now the woods are full of deer.
The catamount has reappeared.
I saw a cougar in the wild.
I will not tell you where.
I’d rather let him live in peace
And know that he is there.
Huntington, West Virginia, 1997
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