There Is A Hunter

The winters cold hovered that evening

The horizon was clouded within the fog

The nights air was loomed with moisture

There was an eery gloom to the beauty

The owls silently perched on naked branches

The echoes from howling were afar; so it seemed

The hares ate carefully yet preyed

There was anxiety looming within the quietness

The scampering of animals paws

The fox bit the rabbit neck

The hare died, but rapidly

There was distinct destiny drumming from the forest

The hawks eyes watched intently

The small pieces of rabbit flesh left by the fox

The other mothers sought food in fear

There the rabbits wombs might lay open

The fox strikes again in better light

The jackrabbits scamper everywhere

The hawks eye the leftovers fallen

There is a hunter aiming a gun at the deer 🦌

January 2019


Thanking all lovely thoughts today

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