Dingos

Mile after mile had succumbed to the leather of his boot soles

Andy Lee Jones was Australia’s wanderer but his wandering may be at and end

He stumbled and fell disturbing the stillness of the sand

Up again he walked on but not for long

He fell again and this time did not rise from his bed of sand

Muscles pushed to the breaking point and beyond trembled

As fevered sweat dripped down his weather hardened brow

The dingoes moved closer their wide panting breaths audible in the still air

They would, not yet these cautious creatures approach

The fallen statue of Wandering Jones

For sleep may be faked and exhaustion shammed

So they sat and waited

 

The wanderer and the wolves of the sandy desert sat opposing

Locked in a stare not 10 feet separating hunter and prey

The man sighed a tired sigh and closed his eyes to the world

His breathing slowed to a soft whistle

The dogs moved closer yet, closing the net

The man lay still, seeming as death in the midsummer sun

One dingo braver than the rest moved closer still

Standing over Australia’s wanderer the dog listened for sound of breath and heartbeat

And heard naught but the wind

I was if this man had simply willed himself to die

The dog was hungry from the slow chase over the desert

The dingo lunged for a bite of its long awaited dinner

 

With speed unbespeaking of the once still form two strong arms wrapped

In deadly conjoining circle around the sandy coat of the dingo’s neck

Yelping and snarling, the dingo struggled against its opponent desperately

Australia’s Wander was not finished yet

 Sand fanned through the air as man and beast fiercely tussled

Under midsummer sun amoungst the dunes

Dingo’s teeth slashed at man’s arm drawing a gush of blood

But Andy Lee Jones had a good grip and was not about to let go

The dingo slowed and grew still in not a facsimile of death as had Jones

But from lack of air and the stifling of life

The other dingoes retreated, for now defeated

But knowing the game was not over yet

The End

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