I saw him, some sixty feet from our back door,
The sun russeting his fur.
Completely at ease in a world of men who,
Though admiring his beauty, would surely kill him
As a pest and common thief.
He chose a spot, a sun-warmed nest of grass
And, wrapping close his brush,
He lay down and curled contentedly, ready
To soak in his selected pool of sunlight and
Dream easy on a balmy day.
I watched and felt a peace spread within me,
His total relaxation,
Far from the hunters who would have him dead.
We shared that peace and, later, as the air cooled,
He stole silently away.
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