Moose at the Door

I looked out my window,

And what did I see?

I saw a young moose

Walking out past a tree.

Majestic he looked,

As he stood there to pose

Before heading out back

As he followed his nose.

Just where is he going?

I wondered out loud,

As he gave me a look that said,

“I don’t like a crowd.”

I moved through the house

From the front to the back

And caught sight of the moose,

I would cut him no slack.

I took hold of my camera

And held it steady in hand

I captured the image

Of the moose on my land.

But how is it mine,

This land as I think?

Oh sure I’ve made payments

But is that ownership’s link?

The moose has as much claim

To the land that he treads

As I with my mortgage

And my bare flower beds.

The land is the Lord’s

Who made earth, wind, and sky

And fishies and moosies

And all poor mortals who die.

So I was delighted

When this moose came to the door

To visit our hovel

On his wilderness tour.