Rustling through leaves,

She hears the dogs, and stops.

Safe in the thicket.

She is the only one left now.

A car, lights in the night,

Left one of her sons by the side of the road

A tangle of brown and white.

Another was murdered by men with white spades,

And dogs that were trained to fight.

The youngest died from poison.

Lying in a ditch, teeth bard,

Almost smiling.

But she led a charmed life.

Falling asleep one February evening,

bedded down on crisp leaves,

She just stopped breathing.