Oh, what call of the wild!

To wake in the cold mist of morning,

Listening to the crisp air and the wet leaves neath my feet.

To feel the warmth of embers under my palms and smell hickory.

I look between the trees,

Black skeletons speckled with copper green.

Swirling soup of gray about their ankles

That pours down the hills to the riverbed.

Mist from my mouth,

I am alive in this wilderness.

The chilled waters gurgle down over the mossy stones,

From this creek I fish and drink for life.

Oh, what call of the wild!

To roam these desolate woods,

The earth dark, damp with dawn

And carpeted with the blaze of October.

Under a Heavenly cold slate of morning,

The geese are my compass and only companions.

Life flees from Winter in it's frozen splendor.

Life I have found in nature's coming slumber.

Up one hill and down to another meadow of yellow grass,

I wander to stay warm.

This is all I want and do.

Life, plain and simple.