a moosey tale – October 20


long miles of trees

red white pine,

poplar, scrub,

a moosey place

and over a hill

in the road

there he is


lumbering, clopping

sunken horsey hips,


ambling forward,

black against the

northern sky


he notices us

considers and turns

into the woods

no panic

just gone.

a moosey tale

for the moosey trail.


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