Daniel Wilcox the animal sound in
the trees wind ‘gutles’ the animal sound in the trees outside moon and sharp stars strike no more visible inside the bunkhouse, boots lean and a bed unmade upon it, old blankets and a ‘mutted’ dog curled up brim of a soiled hat hangs above not gone their calloused master drove away after unsaddling his shivered horse in the barn left in the snowy dark without his whining dog alone it is gut shot by the grinning boss at noon in the moonless day below the animal sounds in the trees |