Bigfoot Out Hunting

A wee hour caught my eye
as I pondered late over x and y.

Time for bed, I guess…
this place! What a mess!

I closed the busy coding screen
unaware outside, the strangest scene.

A lone campfire in fire season.
The man inside for some odd reason.

Asleep, or drunk, or didn’t care,
perhaps stupidly unaware

that sparks fly sometimes high
into dry trees… then I heard its cry.

There at the edge of the scene
beyond the trail light’s beam

a howl, neither dog nor cat.
Then, coyotes calling back.

Another hoot never heard before
except perhaps in Sasquatch lore.

It barked, then waited, one, two, three
and barked again. Was it hunting me?

I left the fire and locked the door,
after which I heard no more.

When daylight came, I went to look,
And there it was… the biggest foot!

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