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Young rangers want something specialAuthor's Notes
to decorate their winter coats,
something to show off their new adult status
and their hunting prowess.
So they climb the treacherous slopes
in search of the rare mountain goats.
The goats are canny creatures,
living as they do so close to the sky,
but their meat is good eating
and their shaggy white coats are splendid.
It takes a team to hunt them --
one ranger striking from above
while the others wait below
for the startled herd to scatter downward --
and there are never enough goats for everyone.
Only the best, most skillful hunters
manage to spear this ellusive prey.
The white fringe of fur
appears on cuffs and hoods
or wrapped around tall boots
to show who has gone hunting in the sky
and returned triumphant.
This poem came out of the January 14-15, 2012 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from Marika Purisima.
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