for Kathy



I imitate Leatherstocking's long, awkward gait,

Leading, as he does, with his knee, placing each foot

Down flat—firmly, quieting crushed, dry leaves.

He pauses often, becomes still, listening, eyes scanning.

We cover ground slowly, ridge to ridge—he stops—

In one smooth motion up comes la longue carabine,

A shot, a buck drops, a reverbation in the air.

He lowers his rifle, tamps powder, ball, and wadding

Before the deer has taken its last breath.

Even then he is still, listening, watching; then,

The long steps, the awkward gait, the deer gutted—

All seamlessly, quietly, with minimum effort. 

We make a simple travois for our load and turn for home,

And before home there are squirrels and a rabbit as well.

The forest begins to hover over us as the day ends,

Closing in, and for the first time today I stumble,

Realizing how fatigued I am, and how lost.








Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 72 times
Written on 2016-12-11 at 20:37

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Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
This is so quiet and yet it echoes over and over through my spirit. You create such a real place. I am there walking beside you. My senses are sparking to all that's around me. After all the activity and motion, what is left is the inner-voice. We each must find our worth inside the quietness and stillness of ourselves. Sometimes, such a task, drains our strength and leaves us weary.
Your ability to write such tender pieces is much appreciated. Thank you for sharing this here. It is truly one of my favorites.

poor deer, maybe it had a family