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Greg Razran

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The Hunter
by Greg Razran

Saturday, October 21, 2006
Rated "R" by the Author.
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           >> View all 37

.

That first last time
I staggered through the woods of Maine,
Driving the deer westward,
the branches clawed at my face,
while the grass snaked around my feet.
Looking up, I saw him in the clearing,
his eyes piercing mine, but not begging.
The trigger, the bang, the smoke, --
then the gun got heavier in my arms.


His body is a trembling brown puddle
on the green canvas of the meadow,
and I feel his warmth
even from a foot away.
The wound in his neck rushes red
into the ground,
and his breath becomes asthmatic.
His eyes are two wet mirrors,
and I turn away.


But it was the sound, that shrill sound,
so frightful in its depth,
and echoed again and again
by the naked trees…
“Like a baby crying,”
a friend said ten years later.
That bitter morning,
in the woods,
I felt this, though I didn’t know it.


Yearning to finish him out of mercy,
I choked on my rage instead,
and the gun dropped like a stone to my feet.
I set the woods on fire,
and staggered away, --
a wounded beast.


But neither flames nor
rivers of vodka could drown out the sound
of that baby
crying.
 


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Reviewed by Regis Schilken 2/22/2011
Wow, I can only begin to imagine your feelings. We have deer that visit our yard. One day two years ago, I had to go out and lift a fawn out of a window well. It cried loudly for its MAAAAAAA! The mother eventually returned and joined her offspring. Now, this little fawn is no longer visible. It has joined the others as a mature adult. I will never forget the helpless cry of MAAAAAAAAAAAA when I picked it up, Nice poem!

rege
Reviewed by Ahmad Abang 8/4/2008
Very moving piece of work. I've heard that sound or cry coming from animals who [instinctively] knew they are going to die.
Never again. Never.
Reviewed by Cynthia Buhain-Baello 7/22/2008
Hello Greg,

A very vivid and graphically illustrated poem of the anguish we as human
beings feel for all creatures that suffer pain....and man is the most
dangerous of all animals because HE CAN THINK. Excellently written.

Cynthia
Reviewed by Charlie 11/16/2007
This drew something from the deep--incredible mood you created. --Charlie
Reviewed by Natasha Bowman 10/31/2007
So sad, but wonderful at the same time.
Reviewed by MaryGrace Patterson 10/24/2006
Deep, and emotional. Your words show the pain inflicted on man and beast.....Good write....m
Reviewed by Dawn Mullan 10/24/2006
Emotional realism about a man's struggle with himself and the outside world. Wonderful. Thank you, DL Mullan
Reviewed by Gloria Gay 10/21/2006
Your poem is sincere, I felt the sorrow in your words. You were able to convey a lot in a few lines. Well done.
Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader) 10/21/2006
Enjoyed
Reviewed by Chanti Niven 10/21/2006
This was one of the most emotive and raw pieces of work I've read in a long time. It brought tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat. I've never been able to kill anything through my entire life and although I'm not against hunting (after all animals hunt one another), this would haunt my dreams...apparently as it does yours.
Incredible poetry!
Chanti
Reviewed by Edwin Larson 10/21/2006
I strongly relate to this write Greg. After many years I gave up gun-hunting (too easy) for bow-hunting (more sporting...but too many messy kills) So I gave up bow hunting for hunting with only my camera and a sidearm depending on the danger of the game. Good write...Enjoyed this.
Reviewed by CJ Heck 10/21/2006
This is so heartrending, Greg -- it must have been a difficult write because of the pain you've felt all these years. You did a beautiful job writing this poem, though. Your readers feel what you felt. Exceptional work, my friend.
My very warmest regards and a virtual hug,
CJ
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