Wounded Bait

    I’m here as well as I can be,
    Braced at foot and knee,
    Thrust-spear honed sharp
    Pointed toward the herd –
    No time to think of what
    Comes next, whether to be
    Or not in a pleasant place.

    After the wolves my leg
    Won’t work as of old –
    Can’t run to hunt –
    Can’t pivot to fight
    Enemies who come.
    I can stand here and wound
    The beast that runs me down.

    Good food it will be for those
    At camp and good to see
    By those who dash out at
    The right time.  The sun sees
    Me too, breathing all this 
    In as I should, and fine:
    Hunting here one last time.