Way up a sandy draw in the foothills of the Whetstone Mountains I found cougar tracks so fresh, damp sand was still trickling in from the edges. For some reason I knelt and sniffed them, quite sure I was being watched by a living rock in the vast, heat-blurred landscape. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH OF THE DAY by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE CHILD AN' THE MOWERS by WILLIAM BARNES LOST TREASURE by MATHILDE BLIND SPIRITS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES TREASURED MOMENTS by OLIVA WARD BUSH ACROSS THE DELAWARE by WILLIAM MCKENDREE CARLETON LOVE, HOPE, AND PATIENCE IN EDUCATION by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |