an almost accidental gathering of poets
 
   
 
 
Louis Oliver
 
The Hunter
The deer stood still
loudlessly I drew
the modern bow
with its skillfully
sharpened
arrow.

In my deep freezer
there is meat
for a whole year-
Shall I or shall I not.
I was thinking;
I am a hunter
not a collector of trophies.
And I dropped bow
and arrow -
forever.
   
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