Hunter
Stock still he stands
a crimson icon
of this parallel
breathing short shallow
eyes darting through
the shadowed drifting.
Of being still too long
in the raw air of trees coated
in this year’s first lace.
Stock still
with ominous ears perked
looking finger
poised and moist.
Thoughts of a clean shot
an anticipated primal
excitement at
proving one’s skill
of gutting bloodied clothing.
Of sitting at the Hotel
with friends
in a red room
necks straining to hear
the very detail.
Gun poised solid
absolute power frozen in the November air
crooked waiting.
Strained stiff expectation
in a movement
moment of quadrupeds.
Thinking of the freezer
thinking of stories
prodded late in January
to heights of bloody satisfaction
over beer and pickled egg
a legend in every bite
the cold details numbing even the very tip of his
maleness
he stands stock still.
By: lhd/15/11/1990
Featured photo: Harrison Haines
Great poem, created great images, can only imagine. Captured such a part of our local culture.