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Yes, kids, I saw the last of the Buffalo. Come now Stop running around and listen Your old man remembers What you will not see Any more. Snorting, bellowing Grinding, jostling Crowding each other in huge herds Their roar would arrive long before them And yes, their smell would, too The ground everywhere would tremble From their mad stampede. Ah! How I was scared by the thought Of being caught among those beasts In that wild rush of theirs Especially late in the afternoon Anywhere round the beltway Bumper to bumper Snorting, bellowing Grinding, jostling Crowding each other. Day after day you could watch them An endless stream, hellbent on a purpose Never ceasing its flow. How impressive, how huge were those herds Of the buffalo! And the passenger pigeons in their thousands Wheeled above I remember once taking a pigeon As a passenger (of course) But that's a different story. And all of a sudden, it seemed They were gone Weeds grow untroubled Where they once had pounded the ground. People said it was the Shortage That did them in No more gas. Eh? What was that? Did I mean "grass"? Have it your way, my memory's patchy Grass or gas. Whatever it was That kept those beasts moving Was gone. Oh, you can still watch them sometimes Small flocks on public display Safe behind fences In city parks and suchlike places Put there, so you kids might imagine What happened before your time. But how can you ever sense That awesome rush, day in and day out Honking and hooting Screeching, polluting? There never will be Anything like them again. 4 June 1978
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Author and Curator: Dr. David P. Stern
Mail to Dr.Stern: david("at" symbol)phy6.org .
Last updated 15 May 2002