The walnut antlers swept behind his head, <br />a crown without dominion to defy <br />a brain disease that sapped his sense, misled <br />his sloping bulk from colder, broader sky <br />and slowly gnawed him numb and nearly blind: <br />a trotting quarry yapping dogs could chase <br />in neighbor woods and marsh so undefined <br />he sniffed no wind of green, unhounded space. <br /> <br />The warden fixed his aim, let crack a flash— <br />the moose's crown of antlers plunged like stone, <br />as knees unlocked, and with a liberating crash <br />he crumpled in a heap of hide on bone, <br />and inward plunged, released in spacious sheen <br />of stately antlered forests, ever green.<br /><br />William F Dougherty<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rev-the-execution-of-the-moose/
