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Rated: · Poetry · Nature · #1661257
I'm counting on my abacus the reasons to hunt in the 21st century.
Leaves the Hunter

They are right, the land is theirs,
whether live or dead.

What is lost, they’re unawares.
Zephyrs breathe around me.

They step upon it’s panicked head,
yank it with a jerk.

Why? They said: cause it will work,
and zephyrs breathe around me.

Some will go to greater lengths
Talk of sport, and ask of strengths.

See, they see in my restraint,
something weak in my complaint,

and zephyrs breath around me.

They think I think that I am thinking
how to think I’m more than they.

But really I am only thinking:
give them critters one more day—

and zephyrs breath around me.

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