Hunter

by Scott Andrew Bailey

Amber brown bristles
Fletched true
Sighted
On the smooth straight shaft
Knocked
Creak of wood
And leather
Tense flesh
Strength of arm
Years
Of hard work
Hard life
Peaked
In tense flesh
Aimed

Deep russet red
Undulating tight
Over perfect form
Moving with surety
Strength and grace
Slender neck
Proud eyes
High points
Antlers spectacular

Slow high-speed
Flight
True
Through high trunks
Ancient towers
Sturdy and rough
Flicking leaves
Pungent smell
Of spilt sap
Over lazy ferns

Struck
Sunk deep
In perfect flesh
Deep russet red
Covered in bright
Fresh crimson
Hunter
Has hunted

Dusk
Deep red sky
Flecked with sparks
Orange
Embers fly
On aroma
Of roasted flesh
Venison
Consumed
Hunter sated
For now

Started awake
Cold
Stone and straw
Shit and piss
And chains
A dream
Of a memory
Despite all
A happy dream
Amidst horror
And darkness

Weakness
Flesh wasted
In forgotten depths
Waiting
For nothing
Time drips
Away
Into nothing
Sodden straw

Stronger arms
Clad in chain
Dragged from darkness
Down cold
Stone corridors
Into light
Hammering eyes
Screams and shouts
Hammering ears

Then rope
And wood
Strong scent
Of wet rope
Rough against
Weak neck
And wood
Creaking underfoot
Screams and jeers
A clunk
Freedom from weight
From the wait
Exhilaration
Then……

 

#NaPoWriMo

By Scott Bailey © 2015

Originally posted on houseofbailey

2 Comments to “Hunter”

  1. Definitely fail to admire the hunting enthusiast’s – err r…

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