Lost In the Wilderness

Drum's tight skin beats through perilous night Hunter to be hunted under sun's glean Running in woodlands in frightful flight Wounded, bleeding, needing to be unseen Chased by Mohicans in a land they claim Stripped of clothing and weapons he had Given a small lead to be hunted as game With strength of will the only comrade Lives in the mountains, this manner of man Now on panic run for his life and breath Rushing through brambles that cover the land The heart will beat stronger to keep from death Travels rock hills to a valley's wide stream, to cross chilled rapids with its stoney bank Lost in a frenzy and caught in a dream Indians right, Indians left, try to out flank With fort in sight, open meadow to go A quick breath, tired legs have acquired Distance to run causes time to move slow A whistle is heard by an arrow fired Pierces the back, he crumbles to the ground Crawling, gasping, his hands clutching black dirt Smoke bellows up from the log fort he found Last sight seen before blood begins to squirt Awakens to find some leather clad men They came from the fort, his wounds they attend Ran for his life and won the Indians game Mountain of a man , I forgot his name contest Structured forms...Iambic verse Frederic Parker 11/11/14