WHEN THE MOON HANGS LOW.
Reading edition
A straying chicken Lost from home Bewildered, finds Itself a-roam. And innocently Stalks the ground, Not dreaming That a coon’s around. As evening’s shadows Gently fall, The chicken, lonesome, Gives a call. A coon steals out Soft in the night, To catch him For his appetite. The night is still! The moon is low! Not e’en a zephyr Seems to blow. The coon with sack Clutched in his hand, Moves silently Across the land. The chicken gives Another squawk! The coon has got her Like a hawk. The moon now breaks Forth into light, The coon and chicken’s Out of sight.
