Trapping muskrat was a high school vocation,
But finding mink the ultimate aspiration.
So cajoled the aid of a savvy trapper,
“Didit,” a rugged mountain man tristate traveler.
In knee-high snowfields we trudged to the high mountain,
I following in heavy winter gear his henchman.
Now to tell this freezing winter he-man tale of woe,
A little field mouse skirts in front of us atop the snow.
Barehanded “Didit” sweeps up his captured prize in stride,
Turns around, hand held high, squeezes hard and tosses aside!
This a “survival of the fittest” happening for me,
And for all woods-men and trapping history.
The rest of that eventful day faded in memory,
But the field mouse forever “Didit’s” and my infamy.
George Kibildis
Sparta