1 <br /> <br />Many animals that our fathers killed in America <br />Had quick eyes. <br />They stared about wildly, <br />When the moon went dark. <br />The new moon falls into the freight yards <br />Of cities in the south, <br />But the loss of the moon to the dark hands of Chicago <br />Does not matter to the deer <br />In this northern field. <br /> <br /> <br />2 <br /> <br />What is that tall woman doing <br />There, in the trees? <br />I can hear rabbits and mourning dovees whispering together <br />In the dark grass, there <br />Under the trees. <br /> <br /> <br />3 <br /> <br />I look about wildly.<br /><br />James Arlington Wright<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fear-is-what-quickens-me/
