Quiet, in the morning sun, he rested,
Command secure, so he might close his eyes,
Might let the weight of life...
Settle from his soul,
Might cease a moment from decision
From concern for the many in his care.
So, he let the sunlight fall,
Warming in the breeze,
And did not see in time
The rifled stalker to his rear.
Jo Anzalone 4-7-2007