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Descending
The bison is back in my mirror
Oct 30, 2020
The bison is back in my mirror,
white hairs tangling black eyes, a scar on
lip and leg; an alertness earned with age,
but a wide-eyed waiting that evolved from
experiences left in the trampled
earth. He still travels in a herd, but it’s
smaller these days, hunted to extinction
by crisscross roads that bring new dynasties
of wolves, and windmills, and barbed wire fences
to the slanted open plains. Another
exhale in the soft cold morning; blurring
vision and warming the nose, as horns drop
and a slow walk down the path continues —
for the remaining day and into night.
© Trapper Markelz 2020
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