It was a long time ago, Grainne, when I was just a lad. If I could, though, I'd go out again.
It is hard for anyone who doesn't live eyeball to eyeball with the environment to understand the trapper's ethic. Indeed, it might be impossible.
A trapper is but a predator, just like some--not all, of the creatures he seeks. He is one with his environment. He lives and breaths with it. He knows that he too can be trapped by the same forces that he is employing.
Since you offered a poem, here's one of mine. I don't expect you to understand it, but look beyond the words:
Steel Trap
Its jaws have closed upon the toes
Of the furry one I caught.
His pain I share, I do not dare
Escape this trap, I thought.
The springs are rust, I do not trust
Its icy grip to hold.
The frost so hoar, I close the door
Forever to the cold.
I build a fire, the flames leap higher
I let the creature go.
The trap relaxed, I take my ax
And smash it in the snow.
The fire is out, I move about
To stamp away the chill.
The creature lost, one trap is tossed…
…But...
I’ve another, still.
March 1978, copyright, J. D. Ellen |
