As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool’s bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;
from The Gods of the Copybook Headings ~ Rudyard Kipling
The following poem was inspired by Jack London’s short story, The Law of Life. As I read it, I could not help but draw a parallel between the death of the old indian, Koskoosh, to the state of—possibly the dying of—our country.
Things Certain
The fire fluttered, snapping weakly
Fitting, she thought
Sitting on the frozen ground
Legs crossed beneath her
Her sight all but gone
Blurry images… trees… the pack
Lurking at the edge of the dark forest
Waiting… for her to die
They had left her here
As they had journeyed to the south
Seeking… always seeking
A perfect world
It is time… they had told her
You have lived a good life
We will carry you in our hearts
For a while
Then… life will go on
Different, though somehow the same
For… much like your dying
The changes have come slowly
She saw the pack… only a few at first
Edging closer… growing bolder
As the fire burned down
She thought to feed the flames… but did not
For she knew in her heart… it was time
When she was strong
And as they moved in for the kill
She bowed her head
And thought of when she was strong
A cold muzzle touched her cheek
And for a moment… in her mind
She raged and fought the beast
And then it was over
Copyright © 2013 C Mashburn
Posting this on dVerse Poets Pub’s Open link Night #101 this afternoon.
Buy "Be Still" from WestbowPress.com
Marbles In My Pocket ~ The Official Blog of Charles L. Mashburn ~ Poems, Short Stories, and random thoughts from the author of "Be Still... and know that I am God" 
Sherry Mashburn said
chilling . . . powerful write, Charlie.
charlesmashburn said
Thank you, m’dear!
claudia said
oh heck charles…you paint a dark picture indeed..i’m glad she didn’t give up without fighting – as long as we fight, there’s still hope…
charlesmashburn said
There IS always hope! Thanks, Claudia!
Myrna said
So vivid it goes straight to one’s fear of death, and one’s hope of resignation when the time comes. Has the time come for our country? I hope not yet.
charlesmashburn said
I really don’t think the time has come, but sometimes I wonder.
brian miller said
reminds me a little of the end of legends of the fall…how he finds that bear and has one last round with it….hey if its my turn to go…leave me to the wolves…i will take one last round…smiles…love this charles…
charlesmashburn said
The gist of it is we will go sooner or later; I’ll go down swinging.
viv blake said
Heart-rending, yet I sensed the inevitability of it.
charlesmashburn said
Yes, Viv, it is inevitable.
Todd Alan Kraft said
“The fire fluttered, snapping weakly…” really set the chill in the air for me. Powerful story, powerful tell.
charlesmashburn said
Thank you! I, too, thought that set the scene well.
hypercryptical said
I agree, a chilling write Charles. How terrible it must have been knowing that you would die such a death…
Anna :o]
charlesmashburn said
Yes, terrible indeed. Thanks, Anna!
Truedessa said
wow..mystical feel to this one..had me on the edge of my seat..nicely done..
charlesmashburn said
Wonderful! I love it win I can get them on the edge of their seats!
buildingalifeofhope said
Quite vivid. I like it very much.
charlesmashburn said
Thank you!
Mama Zen said
This is beautiful, powerful writing.
charlesmashburn said
Thank you very much!
SSMatthews said
Excellent work Charles! Felt as though I was standing there watching!
charlesmashburn said
Thank you very much for the great comment!
Felipe Adan Lerma said
“We will carry you in our hearts
For a while” –
but! in her soul she never gave up, wow, so powerful charles! so brave, you brought it clear, thanks so much 🙂
charlesmashburn said
Thank you very much, Adan!
charlesmashburn said
Reblogged this on Marbles In My Pocket ~ The Official Blog of Charles L. Mashburn ~ Poems, Short Stories, and random thoughts from the author of "Be Still… and know that I am God" and commented:
I used to think it was funny when our English lit teacher, Miss Chapman, would try to get us to figure out what a poet was saying–what might be hidden in his words. I always thought the words a poet wrote meant exactly, and only, what they said.Well… I reckon I might’ve been wrong.