l choose a hunters coat today <br />wear colours of the forest floor. <br />I clean my gun and pack a bag <br />with care I whet my butchers saw. <br /> <br />Sharp enough to cut through bone, <br />no harm a little blood and gore. <br /> <br />On tiptoe, not to wake within. <br />I wrap misgivings tight in greed. <br />With stealth befitting any mouse, <br />I leave to search for flesh to bleed. <br /> <br />To those who still sleep soundly <br />I am very strong indeed. <br /> <br />An unsuspecting woodland stag <br />turns his head, wide nostrils flare. <br />He twitches with the scent of killer, <br />roars a warning through the air. <br /> <br />I stand with rifle cocked, all ready <br />through the foliage, meet his stare. <br /> <br />Blue eyes threw sparks of sapphire, <br />both aim and bullet go astray. <br />The stag takes flight so gracefully <br />His beauty saved my soul today. <br /> <br />Back home I tell the meanest tale <br />Of size – the one that got away. <br /> <br />©Roan Apr.2009<br /><br />Ann Beard<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-hunters-coat/
