Feed on

A Tribute


You think we can’t see you but we always do.

We came upon you this time in a field. Grazing. Ravenous. Indiscriminately taking all. Neither seedling—nor sapling will survive.

When you notice us you freeze. The tension so high, even I can hear your hearts racing. In unison you break for the woods—crashing through stream and thicket. White tails high.

I count. There are fewer of you now. Just 5; a doe is missing.

Perhaps that explains the sky tonight. Infused with vermilion, as if to acknowledge the fallen doe. An orange vest, a crossbow—so swift. Almost silent death. A cold eye and a blood drenched forest floor.

The sky is so beautiful tonight. A tribute, I think to you. Then I hear her say, “Score one for the trees, pup.”

One Response to “A Tribute”

  1. hj says:

    I always wonder what omens the sky is providing. I’m usually wrong about what they are, but it’s fun to try and recognize them.

Leave a Reply