Mounted Moose Head

It was possibly a stag, or was it moose meat?

Certainly accusatory, those marbles-over-concrete eyes.

They see beyond now, what they notice most is the lack of it.

And the horns, or were they palmate antlers?

You could hang a class full of coats off of just one,

Save the other for library bags, or graduation expectations.

The dark (or was it tan) fur lost ground to moths,

The bulbous nostrils snorted at the year-seveners,

Slid down off the wall at night to inhale Harry Potter.

They put it away somewhere, only after the new millennium.

It was the proud emblem of the hunt, back when pride meant valour. 

Now the students are vegetarian, pride means wisdom.

It's in the dungeon.  As we huddle over its ghost,

Across the world they're introducing moose to Scotland -

Shipping them in, the stags (it was probably a stag) aren't enough.

Perhaps that's why the emblem evolved, moose is more.

But that does nothing to dissolve the enigma surrounding its appearance

Here, in Davidson, where mostly magpies roam the parklands.