From my window I could see the tracks left by he.
Quietly he slips between the trees, the stars a witness to his deeds.
His shadow a streak of blue against the winter’s moon.
The great expense of his domain forever changed by roads malls and acid rain.
The deer he once pursed now live in a wild life refuge.
Sadly this cougar will fade into the night with only a poem left in the fading of the light.
Kellie Fairman 08\02\2005
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