Wet with dew,
Clover and stolen strawberries.
The joy of survival.
The silent warmth of companionship.
A crash through the wood.
Darkness is claiming
Both grass and blood.
The black, glassy eye
Unsees the sky.
(Writing Prompt: END, part of Poetry 101 Rehab by Mara Eastern – Thanks, Mara! Feel free to jump on her poetry wagon each Monday!)
feature photo: shutterstock
Disclaimer: I am in not opposed to hunting for food and will happily eat venison. This is merely an attempt to show the story from a deer’s point of view.
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