The pack hurtles across the crater:
a volley of bodies;
salvoes of flying feet and jaws
and tails trailed like banners.
Each footfall leaves
a slow silver fountain.
What is it they hunt?
Onager or wapiti, wildebeeste, moa?
(Once it was a two-legged ghost
that vanished as they struck.)
Lumbering aurochs or swift stiltlike dinornid,
at the end it falls under
their teeth in
a welter of
microprocessors, effectuators,
metal shards and
a strangely satisfied hunger.
