With this issue of FHL WEEK appearing the morning after the annual Hunters’ Moon,* we consider this poem especially appropriate!

Illustration by Gilbert Holliday

By Edric G. Roberts

The horizon, sapphire and amethyst,
   Pales in the East and soon,
Like a copper shield through the evening mist,
   Rises the Hunters’ Moon.

On the turnpike road every hoof-beat sounds
   Clear in the frosty air,
As the Whip jogs home with the straggler-hounds
   Jostling his weary mare.