The Writer's Voice

The World's Favourite Literary Website

The Deer


Neil Bridgens

 In camouflage the huntsman waits
his pouch as red as ink,
he's killed a hundred deer before
who wandered along this stream to drink.

No sky he sees, his pallet dry
no hesitation feels he,
the deer with silent feet draws near
no muzzle tip sees he.

This night is silent as a mole
the knuckle turns to white,
the deer moves not an inch each way
he's caught between the sight

no sound is heard after the fall
the skull remains the same,
a two inch bullet hole
is lodged within the brain.

By fireside the huntsman sleeps
a changing of the tide,
the deer with silent thirst
no more shall cross the river side.

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work

All Authors (hi-speed)    All Authors (dialup)    Children    Columnists    Contact    Drama    Fiction    Grammar    Guest Book    Home    Humour    Links    Narratives    Novels    Poems    Published Authors    Reviews    September 11    Short Stories    Teen Writings    Submission Guidelines

Be sure to have a look at our Discussion Forum today to see what's
happening on The World's Favourite Literary Website.