Today was bad territory
Leaf littered shale, masking quarry
We ran along the mountain's spine
A view lost in time
The Catskills' silhouette loped a distant sky
Quilted fields thrown across hills taking my eye
Autumn has a warm deceit
Luring hunters and prey without retreat
The ground was wet and cold
Our horses were hard to hold
We could hear a deep hound voice
Then couple after couple began to rejoice
It was coyote scent that rose
To greet each hound nose
Full cry, whip's yelp, huntsman's horn
Flat out gallop through bramble, mud and thorn.
We hoed up on a greasy bend to find a woman strewn
Her breathing shallow, her bones in ruin
Alive or dead we could not know
So in hunting it can go
Our hides may differ but we really are the same
Sometimes the predator ends in game
