The Doe Poem by smol mad rad cat

The Doe



Light footed, spring-heeled, flag-tailed doe
She thinks, “I am alone”
And she lowers her head to graze

The hunter, orange-coated, smoke-smelling, hidden
He says to himself, “This is a healthy one”
And he shoots the doe

She is already dead, but her muscles tell her “run”
And she tries
She leaves a blood trail for the hunter to follow


(2/21/2014)

Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: hunting
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
No, I am not against hunting. My dad and brothers hunt. I'm okay with that. I'm really not interested in it myself, though...
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