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Autumn Leaves
volume 6 number 7
Autumn Leaves volume 6 number 7 |
He was not my buffalo,
He was not mine.
But I would
not desert him
Despite all his wandering.
The mouse of the field
Feared of the eagle.
He found
no shelter
Under the skies.
The Buffalo had
No foe to fear
In all his
travels
And constant meandering.
The mouse and the buffalo
Were distant cousins
They
both, it proved,
Had near-sighted eyes.
To the mouse it was
No special hardship.
He was small
and lived,
Close to his food.
The mouse then said
To his cousin the buffalo,
"I can
show you where
The best grasses lay.
I can lead you
To fields of timothy.
Clover, and
fescue
Of great magnitude.
All that I ask
Is to travel beside you
And hide
beneath you
In sheltered shade.
The mouse and the buffalo
Traveled together.
They
laughed at the rainfall
And smiled at wind.
The time that they spent
Was free from all burden.
The
grasses were plenty
And easy to find.
Then one day
The eagle alighted.
And spoke to the
buffalo
With pleasing tongue.
"I can show you
The most wonderful meadow.
I can see
all
From my home in the sky.
To find this meadow,
You must leave.
The sun will set
shortly;
It's now you must run."
Then when
The buffalo scampered,
The mouse was
revealed
In the grass where he lie.
The eagle swooped down
And picked up the mouse.
He
flew to the mountains
To never return.
The buffalo wandered,
Lost in the grasslands.
He
searched for this meadow,
And then for the mouse.
The grass that he found
Was withered and broken.
The
waters were scarce;
The grain was all burned.
His wander grew wider;
His heart was now broken.
He
lay in the dust,
And died from his loss.
He was not my Buffalo,
He was not mine.
He belonged to
the mouse.
