Groundhog Day

May 29, 2008

Groundhog Day

Rolling hills of cool blue wheat surrounded us,
Staring at one another, me in the shade of my barn,
The metallic cage shone in the hot dry sun.
Scents of green alfalfa and dry manure,
The wind blew the long stale barn doors,
As a chain rattled inside the hard vented cell.

I felt the cold steel in my hand,
He stared at it obliviously.
Inside, the barrel must have seemed infinite.
His head shifted and cocked to the left,
Shaking he retreated to the back of the cage,
Holding back his wild instincts to

The shaking stopped and all was still,
Echoes from the barn and far off hills,
Red blood I could almost taste.

No more holes in my barn.
No more home on my farm.

His skin still hot from the burning sun,
Fur caked with blood and mud,
Kneeling over the shining cage.

The job is not done,
Digging further into one of his burrows,
I drop him deep within the earth,
I must reset the trap for the others.

Gun safe on my shoulder, I head home,
A salty drop shines down my cheek,
My 12 year old feet walk the pipe across the creek.