The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top
Blood — blood and torn grass —
Had marked the rise of his agony —
This lone hunter.
The grey-green woods impassive
Had watched the threshing of his limbs.
A canoe with flashing paddle,
A girl with soft searching eyes,
A call: "John!"
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Come, arise, hunter!
Can you not hear?
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top.
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Comments
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I really don't get it
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hole in one
I really enjoyed it -
Disturbing
It is quite disturbing...from what i can tell he seems to be hunting the girl...is that right? -
i like this poem. very clever
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