We came upon a skeleton in the woods once.
The pale bones startled us,
Our play suddenly forgotten.
The fallen pieces puddled loosely
Upon a patch of bald, cracked earth.
It had only been a cow, but...
The silence of our wonder added to
The austere serenity of those bones.
We breathed their regal stillness
And stood on sacred ground.
We were strangers, unwelcome guests.
Appalled at our clumsy intrusion,
We made our way out of the
Mausoleum to the open field.
Under the bright summer sun,
We spoke soberly of the cow
And I dreamed of it that night,
Lost and alone in the dark woods.
I did go back, not long after,
To look for those pale, lonely bones,
But not one remained.
The cow was now completely gone,
Or was it?
Was that only the wind, or
Did I hear a gentle lowing drift among the trees?