By accident, we discovered it high in the mountains,
not far off the trail
high in the mountains.
It wasn’t what you’d expect, just brush and horsehair
woven clumsily together—
just brush and horsehair.
It was empty, and yet somehow, we could tell
something had been curled there.
Somehow, we could tell
whatever it was, it was not good news at all,
but bloody, a nest like that
not good news at all,
for there was a stink, a stink of manure, a smell of hay
left by the trail—a stink
of manure, a smell of hay,
of this we’re certain. We’re telling the truth as we saw it.
This is our truth, it’s the truth,
the truth as we saw it
high in the mountains, not far off the trail,
a mare’s nest, God help us,
not far off the trail.