Hunter

A hunter stalks her prey

Green,

The trees, the brush.

 

I stand

motionless.

 

I watch my prey,

He was.

 

Unsuspecting,

he had his back to me.

 

He always has his back to me,

for he doesn't f*****g care.

 

He stays,

but for no reason.

 

I aim,

pull back and strike.

 

Scarlet pours,

and I flee.

 

He is left to die,

alone.

 

Just as he left me alone,

I will leave him.

 

 

Alone,

to let his blood soak into the hill.

Reviews

[Dana Hyatt]

This poem uses great imagery!