As I Kneel: a short poem

Fingertips strung bright red,

an eye so sharp and dialed.

I see my target-



and he is followed.

I track the crimson trail

on adrenaline- my fuel,

to see him laying,

still breathing in a pool.

Clouds of life arise

from his slowly

fading breaths.

In seas of endless sky,

his eyes pierce my soul.

He rests.

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Comments 4 comments

LVidoni5 profile image

LVidoni5 2 years ago from Portland, Oregon Author

lol they are, Verita :)

Verita 2 years ago

Hmm 'JBC'...sounds delicious. Yummy ;)

Eric Flynn profile image

Eric Flynn 3 years ago from Providence, Rhode Island

Good good stuff, I dig it.


FitnezzJim profile image

FitnezzJim 3 years ago from Fredericksburg, Virginia

I gave up hunting because of that. A baby deer crossed my path, eyes wide and innocent. I said to myself, too young to shoot. Then I thought, but what of his mother?

I never hunted again, and became a follower of fast-food burger joints.

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