Hunting

He was sweating with cold hands,

Fighting a bout of nausea as his arms cradled the rifle,

Steadying his breathing, still hearing his father’s shallow exhales,

As the deer stood still, almost frozen,

He knew his father was willing him to fire but dared not speak.

He was sending the message to his finger to squeeze,

But there was a glitch, a delay in the system,

And when the shot exploded, a flash in the dim dawn’s light,

He jumped, as if he had not ordered the shot himself,

As if he was not the one holding the gun.

The animal leaped, and bounded into the cover of the wood,

Its muscles pushing and pulling in such beautiful rhythm,

That when the blood was found,

He could scarcely believe it,

Much less bring himself to follow its thick trail to the spot where the thing lay.

His father congratulated him on the kill, but it wasn’t done,

And as he looked upon the limp creature he could see its ribs rising and falling,

Bubbles of exhalation through the red smear of its nostrils bursting,

And as the life left it, he saw in its eyes,

It was groaning, almost giving itself up to him.

He knew what he had done was not cruel,

The killing was natural, even good,

And he brought himself to smile and laugh with his father as they dressed the carcass,

But that day he knew, knew what he never had before,

That no matter what you do, no matter who you are,

Fight as you may, cautious as you like,

We all, in the end, lie in the foliage, our eyes glazed with a film of spit and dirt,

As we down bittersweet parting shots of oxygen,

Clawing, grasping, dragging our fingers across everything we know,

As we pass into everything new, everything else.

And when he was sure that his father was well ahead of him,

The corners of his eyes stinging and his stomach churning with oncoming vomit,

He wept.

 

Reviews

[Rosalind Gale]

Somewhere between life and death we exist, feel, survive. Blood is on all of us, in some way - you express this subtly, the blood being a metaphor, yet it can also be taken literally. A very good work Paul.

Rosa -x-

[MOON]

Touching , well written you brought this to life drew the conclusions poetic.

[Pencrafter]

Your poem reads like a good short story, with clear scene depictions and characterization. Also, you show the drama of life and death, with the emotional surge and philosophy underlying. A well-written poem.

[nigrum homonculus]

this was excellent. you really showed how hard hunting for the first time for a young one can be. even better you showed how far someone would go to please someone above them. a really beautiful poem. well done

[afra]

amazing ...^_^

[J]

now this one touched me. truly. it's a fave. you've a singular style that is arresting and ..... invitingly emotional and authentic. this is a splendid study of the inherent desire to please a parent in the face of violating one's own personal objections, and the cost thereof. well done, indeed.

[Coyote Poetry]

Hunting is hard for some folks. To kill a live animal isn't easy. I like the way you told this story. I like the ending to the outstanding story.
Coyote