Family Traditions sugggest that
my great uncle killed the last bear
in the county on Sewell Mountain.
Family tradition suggests that
my great uncle killed the last deer where
Winfrey’s rock wrecked steamboats again
and again on Cumberland river.
The American hero, Sgt. York, who
was my uncle’s uncle in Tennessee,
living near the three forks of Wolf River,
killed the last red wolf to travel through
his farm at the bee tree.
This morning a black bear crossed the
hay field, between rolls of hay,
and a fawn hides in the fencerow,
having no knowledge of family
traditions. I expect some day
a red wolf will make tracks in winter snow.