Hunting the Hunter

Crackling through the fall leaves

A black bear, the size of a tree

Roots around looking for food

Winters coming, he's in a bad mood

Snorting and sniffing, rooting and pawing

Easing the hunger in his belly gnawing

A shadow falls across his path

Just a glimpse, turning back

Rearing up on mighty legs

Thinking it was all, in his head

Crouching down and sniffing low

Hibernation making him go.

From behind a mighty oak

Cherokee warrior crouches cloaked

In the shadows of the evening

His thoughts of his tribe keeps his breathing

Still and slow as he eyes his prey

Never he thought a bear today

Would cross his path for him to slay

Silent as the night his arrow he draws

Feather to his cheek, bow held taut

But his efforts have come to naught

For behind him rising up on a ledge

The panther crouches on the edge

Stomach rumbling claws so sharp

The panther has but one thought

Creeping towards the human meat

Tonight the panther will surely feast

Powerful legs thrusting him forward

When a sound roars out like thunder

The cherokee fires his arrow true

When the panther toward him flew

The bear falls dead, his aim was good

The panther tumbles dead in the woods

The warrior turns pale as a ghost

As he sees a paleface drifting close

They pause and stare at each others prey

Then nod and go their separate way.

Comments 1 comment

Frank Atanacio profile image

Frank Atanacio 5 years ago from Shelton

I like the story line in this poem and the ending.. perfect great share my friend happy trails...

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