Hands Of Judgment

A Native American Hunter, Hunting In The Cold Of Winter. 1-5th place award in the sincerity club weekly contest

its almost winter, and the temperture

is just above the freezing mark, i am bundled up

as I sit in my perch, high in a tall pine tree,

on the edge of a thick line of other trees of many types,

surrounding a patch of clear land about an acre in size,

snow has not yet fallen in this area, so there is

is still green to be seen on the ground below,

though most trees are bare, and lacking color

 

As I wait, I have muffled my breathing, and resisted

the urge to move as not to aware any

passing deer that might fall victim to my waiting

hand of judgement, which is weilding

a wooden recurve bow to take down my victim

with skill and stealth.

 

after waiting for more than a hour

a deer walks by, its a doe, and i quietly take a deep

breath and load an arrow, then begin to slowly

pull back the string, when i reach full draw I quickly

but stealthly, aim to take a shot at the doe which

I have almost set my hand of judgement upon.

 

when suddenly she stops and turns to look in the

direction she has come from, i hesitate and begin to hear

what sounds like another deer...no, perhaps...two deer, then they

come into sight, they are the doe`s fawns no more than

four or five months old, hardly old enough to take care on

their own, i lift my falling hand and return the bow to its resting state

letting pass the doe and her two fawns, to live another day,

free of harm from the lone hunters hand of judgement.