The Deer
Grazing on lush green leaves, the carm of the trees,
The soft whistle of the wind, no hint of danger, the sun warm on his back, his tail flicking the stray fly.
The wind changed slightly and the warm earthy smell of
Something unknown hits his nose, he stops and his senses
Come alive, he turns his head in the direction of the smell.
As his eyes notice the Man standing with a coat on and a gun
Pointed right at the deers heart, the world seems to stop,
The bullet is like a white hot arrow singing as it comes
It rips into his side and the force makes the deer stumble.
As he sinks to the ground his breathing slowing down, his heartbeats slowly stopping, he watches the Man walk over to him and kneel down, he feels the warm strong hand gently stoke his neck and a strange carm comes over him, his eyes close and his soul lifts up and drifts into a place of peace, his body is lifted and carried over broard shoulders, respected by the Man who send his soul to heaven.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2013
About this poem:
My son went hunting for the first time with his new father in law.
I have mixed feelings, I know hes a Man now, but I see the boy who animals just love.
I saw a pic of him with the deer he killed and I see the Man, but I also see his eyes and how it worried him:-)
A mother sees below what others see.
I like to think the deer felt like this?
Comments (10)
Linda, thank you, kind of had to find a way around my feelings hense this
I see how its a Man thing, and something thats been done for years, and its controlled and done
With respect for the wildlife,.
its a mom thing
but i know the feeling and how you feel
I just needed to write this, maybe not a good idea?
Yes boys grow to men. My son went hunting for the first time when he was fourteen. He was not to happy about his kill. As far as I know he has never went back. Has talked about going Some can some can't. I had an aunt that could go out to the chicken coop and wring a chickens neck so fast. I could not even eat the chicken after seeing that. I do come from a family of hunters and was raised to respect the kill and not kill anything I was not going to eat. Hope they did not mean flys. I am not going to eat them Your poem was well done and did the deer proudly
yay another mother who understands thanks Happy,
I know i kind of went overboard when i look at it, someone has to do the killing i guess,
And if its not just for sport and for food its not so bad, he is a chef after all and so he sees
It as that, but I saw the look in his eyes and I know my soft boy felt it and i know he would always respect
taking the life of something for any reason was nice for me to see:-)
I've never hunted in my life: When the hunter out in the wilds kills to feed himself or/and his family I don't have a problem with that. When the hunter kills beautiful animals simply for sport, I have to wonder how they sleep at night:
What, or indeed whom gives us humans the right to assume dominion over our beautiful fellow creatures anyway? Killing any creature for "pleasure" is simply sick.
You well express the unease many feel at the slaughter of the innocents, even when the act is perpetrated by our own nearest and dearest.
A compelling write...
Bill
Yes one of the strangest feelings so far, just so glad its not an every week thing and a once off,
And I could never be there
Yes I know its something he felt he had to do, and i see both sides, have never been there when anything is killed and not sure i want to, but its the life he married into and even though he is so gentle he is a very practical Man now and its a life he has chosen, I am proud of everything my children do in life and i am proud he did this with respect for the animal and not just sport:-)
Thank you so much for this it helped, lol, it is something Man has been doing for years but I guess i still think of Bambi and my cats and my moms dogs:-)
As you can see not a country girl at all
thank you again, for another insight from a woman who lives it