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hunting
January 25, 2017
Deep dark eyes staring at you
Warm brown fur
Clouds of smoke come out of your mouth as
The wind bites at your fingers
Muscles tensing up as you steady your gun
Your stomach churns as you click the safety off.
You hear a bang and everything is quiet as,
Your heart steady pounding slows as you feel as if you committed a crime
You find a steady trail of red that leads into the heart of the woods,
As you go deeper you feel more anxiety.
When you see a fawn lying next to its dying mother.
© Todd V., Neoga, IL
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