The Hunter
The deer graze in the grass of the plainThe blood pumping through the small winding viens
A small noise in the distance
Of creatures running with persistance
The deer turn and flee
Running strait into me
I jump up and growl
They realize they have run afoul
I jump through the air
With just a single care
Without them I would not thrive
Without them we would not survive
Poetry by ???????
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Written on 2006-02-25 at 16:13
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Mary |
PoeticProcrastination |
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