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The Way of the WildAs I saddled my Pintoa possum walked near the barnI didn't reach for my riflecos possums don't mean no harmthen I rode brush trails n canyonsthe sun tailing me each milecos bein' tracked, with somethin' at your backis the way of the wildI hated hunting that cougarbut he'd killed too many calfsstill I knew man crowded his landand his times were fading fastshooting him for what came nat'ruljust wasn't my stylebut living off of dyin'is the way of the wild'round sundown I caught that big cat in my sightsI don't feed crows so I buried him that nighteven out there bright city lights were in viewand I wondered if my rancher's life was fading, toothen I felt kinda hungryso I picked up my gunthat poor possum tried hardbut rifles can't be outrunI ate by a campfireand knew it's just denialto think any escape...the dark, certain fateof the way of the wildthe way of the wildthe way of the wild(c)2005 Robert George