Not aware of my presence
or what I attend to do
It stands there gracefully and proud
as if he knew of his beauty
His antlers are fully grown
like leafless autumn trees
and its skin a precious velvet
made of gourmet chocolate
his hooves are embedded with fondness
for he leaves soft prints of broken hearts on the soil
He is observing the area and his mirror eyes reflected the meadow
He is virile
surprisingly great stature
and stood as still as a trophy
I picture his taxidermy mount high on my wall
to be looked upon for years to come
so that maybe I can acknowledge my accomplishments.
I slowly draw my rifle from my shoulder
and release the safety.
I look through the scope
and place the buck between the cross hairs.
I inhale a deep breath,
with my finger on the trigger,
I am ready to fire.
I took my last look into his black obsidian eyes,
and he turns away to look back into his forest.
Then, out of the haven, the serenity of a doe
joins her mate
still timid she stops halfway
and an innocent fawn swiftly follows
I had to refocus on my target
but at that moment the bucks head turned into a heraldic sun
and his antlers spread like sun rays that pierced my soul.
Through the scope, the blinding light changes the scenery
to my wife gently pushing my beautiful son on our backyard swing set.
Overwhelmed with sunshine,
I release my finger from the trigger.
No comments yet.