Wild Goats in Summer Sun

     I have read many nature books, and my sympathetic nature goes out to fellow creatures that I share this world with.  This poem is for them:



                              Under a sky
                                of azure blue                         
                              the weary
                                mountain goats
                              continued their
                                trek across
                              peaks filed down
                                by the rasps
                              of winter snows
                                 and melting ice.
                                                   
                              The summer sun
                                 was scorching--
                               no relief came
                                  from melted snow
                               or ice.  It had
                                  evaporated long ago.
                               Finding an overhanging
                                   ridge brought some relief
                               from sun, but not thirst.