I wrote a
poem in 1968.
Fifty years
later I got THE photo to go with it.
STARLIT
NIGHT
The snow is
scarlet the snow is white
I am alone
in the starlit night
The blood of
my veins is pulsing delight
As the blood
of my kill is staining the white
And I scream
forth my triumph
 |
Feb. 5, 2018
my house yard, Nipigon. |
To the dead
of the night
This is my
instinct, thus I must kill
You can not
deny me, try as you will
For I must
live and I live to kill
The heat of
the race, the capture, the thrill
When there’s
none to deny me my right to my kill.
