The Hunt

Before me trees of gold and green,

Above the burning amber sun.

A thousand leaves wave lazily,

The telephone wires weaving too.

A shade of blue glows through the cloud,

Almighty whites, greys, and black.

It’s only the birds are there unseen,

Below the fallow deer run.

A mist above the lake, and grazing

Frost, which on the wind had flew.

Then stands the mighty beasts so proud,

The great boar, with spotted back.


Hiding inside the woodland slopes,

Upon the hill and under the shrubs,

They snuffle and shrug beneath the growth,

Hiding away beyond all sight.

Such beauty and dignity unknown,

Such simplicity as people often hate.

Beneath the earth he often gropes,

Searching for those juicy grubs.

Then one sees the hunter, never both

Their eyes shifting, then the flight.

The boar charge through the flown

Blowing branches, sealed his fate.


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