White mushrooms grow
on a fallen tree.
Dead leaves crunch
beneath boots.
With bow in hand,
I sit patient.
Waiting.
One day a deer
will come by.
| 
Email this Poetry
| 
Add to reading list
Publish. Read. Get Read.
Welcome Visitor: 
November Woods
Poetry By: J Christopher Bartley
Poetry
Tags: Nature
Deer,
Hunting
Trees
Leaves
A poem of just enjoying nature as I hunt while not hunting at all.
 |
Add to Reading List |
 |
Become a fan |
 |
Email It |
|
|
| Generate eBook | |
Share on Other Sites: |
|
Other writing by J Christopher Bartley Drop the Bomb Amerika Home is where the Heart is.. La Madonna Obscura Driving after Midnight The sweetest Rose.
Tags
Poetry, Poem, Life, Death, Pain, Sad, About, Heart, Hurt, Depression, Hate, Hope, Romance, Sadness, Dark, Loss, Lost, God, My, You, Girl, Alone, Broken, Suicide, Me, Fear, Friendship, Nature, Time, Friends, Anger, Joy, Tears, Dream