For Ted Kennedy

Did you hear the little lion roar? Did you see him in the grasslands, Mane golden like the sandy shore? Did you see him stride, the spans That flash across the trees The wingless eagle on the lees? Did you know my lion, my game The hunters stalked to sudden shame? I found him at the big tree root His breath was gone, his body still And flies abuzz callous of the truth: The hunter silent waits, intent to kill All as he did my lion, even flies Dining on this hunter's flesh. Rise Fallen leaves from your forest floor Rise with the wind and sorrow pour. For this jungle now quiet and still Was by the lion carved and groomed We were better driven by his will And those who fell by fate was doomed Before he panted and proclaim The dream forever, his love aflame Golden as the sunset on his mane; He is gone ... lions too feel the pain.