On a walk straight through the park
I saw a light, perhaps a spark
That sped across the cloudless sky.
I failed to ask wherefore and why.
Then it stopped directly up above
And reminded me of a tale I love-
A tale they tell from long ago.
Its origins, however, I do not know.
The story goes once there was a man
Living in the woods without a clan.
He lived there alone in a tall Oak tree
Running to hide at the buzzing of a bee.
Hikers so scared this solitary fellow
Upon seeing one he'd let out a bellow.
They tell me that even to this very day
He can be heard when winds blow this way.
So, next time you hike when the cold wind moans
It might just be that man quaking to his bones.