Hunter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I have no idea what to say about this. I was called a "satirical comic" after this being read. If there is any point behind it, that is for you to see.....Let me know if you find one.

Submitted: April 20, 2007

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Submitted: April 20, 2007

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Hear it crunch beneath you,
it swallows you as you go.
Bitter cold as you push through,
the white and softly laden snow.

Tracks winding here and there,
but you still follow with hope.
You're determined to catch the hare,
though you only have a gun and a rope.

You take a crouch, then down on your knees,
you fire your gun, run out and knab it.
You got him, dinner to be,
no more white fluffy rabbit. 
He travels through the muck,
and over the hill.
Thinking was it mere luck,
or was it his skill?


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