MARION DOYLE
Little brown brother of the Umbrian hills,
Childlike and pure, you surely are the one
To hear a plea of pity for the ills
Man visits on all helpless things that run
Or creep and fly beneath the stars and sun.
Guard them, I pray, from human lust and greed-
The beautiful, the saucy and the shy-
And teach mankind to know wild creatures' need
Of confidence when human feet go by;
A heart that almost bursts the walls of flesh,
The frozen terror in a small bright eye,
Are plea enough for their immunity.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
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