Old Ephraim... The Tale Of Three Toes Poem by Mervyn Graham

In the rugged heart where Idaho's embrace,
And pine-clad peaks meet the cyan sky's grace,
Lived a legend, fierce, in nature's lore,
Old Ephraim, the grizzly, with a mighty roar.

His massive paws carved tales in the soil,
Marks of primal power, ancient, loyal,
A guardian of the woods, with eyes ablaze,
He ruled the Cache Forest's hidden maze.

Three Toes, they whispered, a name that spread,
Around campfires, where shadows tread,
For his clawed appendage, a symbol of might,
A testament to battles won in the night.

Frank Clark, the shepherd, knew the truth well,
His sheep trembling as twilight fell,
Old Ephraim's hunger, fierce and dire,
Fifty at a time, lost to his ire.

Under the moon's watchful eye, they clashed,
Clark, armed with courage, in shadows he dashed,
His loyal dog, barking, brave and true,
As the grizzly's wild roars pierced through.

'Five rounds, ' Clark whispered, is all he had,
Yet Ephraim stood, still wild and free,
A force of nature, wounded but bold,
In the forest's heart, their tale now told.

But with dawn's first light, the truth was clear,
The fallen giant lay silent,5 rounds had done the deed,
Frank was humbled as he knelt in awe,
For he had faced Old Ephraim's mighty roar.