I understand that deer hunting has its compassionate side. That having killed or chased away natural predators, we have caused a situation to which there appears to be only one solution. A friend who hunts tells me that if the population isn't thinned, many deer will die of starvation, and it is a horrible death. It is living in a dream world to want the whole thing to go away. But sometimes dreams are all a person has. The notion that because God made beautiful creatures, it is our responsibility to live and let live, if not actually step in to protect. Aside from that, the poem is a poem is a poem.
To me, the horse and the deer represent life, as opposed to the slow death that
a disease such as Alzheimer's causes.
~~~~~~~~~~
PS: Said I would wait 'til I had a cheerful poem. I lied. [Never meant to imply that I would wait to write until I was in a cheerful mood. Writing with me is not an option, but a compulsion. Some might term it a disease! It must seem like I post everything that I write, but I don't. There are several reasons. Hope to expand upon them soon in an article.
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T h a n k .y o u . for all the wonderful reviews. Time after time, you have added wind beneath my wings. No way a price can be put on that!
xOx Phyllis xOx
Just Deer and Seabiscuit, Dear
Four deer today. Almost close enough to touch.
Say they overbreed. As if beauty were a luxury.
Shoot a deer with the same ease that I wing
myself to the moon's pale, cool arms to cry
Full tonight, she transports me to a roof
escaped to as a child. Know what I wish?
I wish Saturn and I could have an affair.
Love that he's never still, you know? Howls
Bite me when control freaks try to tell him
how many rings he can wear. What a hoot.
Say four deer? Make it five. Little one still
sporting spots; mother the biggest I've seen.
Such a strange combination of awkwardness
and grace. Knees bring to mind race followers'
jibes at Seabiscuit. Biscuit showed 'em, didn't
'e. Oh, to run like that. Disappear in a blink
like a doe or thoroughbred, every muscle,
every sinew, every breath instinct. To feel
just once that one is one with every molecule
of air. Not sunk into an aged couch, peeking
to see if the love of your life is aware. Not
staring or frowning a frown that means a dead-
simple plot is flummoxing. What are they
talking about, he groans. Run. Run before you
are a mystery. Who are you? he will snap.
Shrink from your touch and cry out, Someone
call the police! Broad broke in! Number
is 9-something. 119-? Right now, he forgets
unimportant things. A date, an appointment,
button on the microwave. Is it Tuesday or is
it Thursday. You block print reminders on pink
and yellow stickies and tack them where he can't
miss. He misses a lot. Deafness, too, has him
in a well. Hates that aid. Think for two grand,
damn thing'd fit. Poor soul. Knee lets up,
hip goes. Partials stay at the lab. Bye-bye
flavor. Tomorrow, always hope for more
deer. Rumored rain be damned. The ring
around the moon. Sportswriters said Seabiscuit
hated a muddy track. Who could blame?
Hell or high water, going out next time.
See if I can get one to eat out of my hand.
It could happen. You don't know.
Those deer eyes would stop me every time. I don't see how hunters do it. Who could shot Bambi? the grace and beauty in your poem, clouded by anxiety and hardship. My heart goes out to you. Excellent write. I love the theme of escaping for a moment or two. Keep trying with those deer. Liz
Feel like I'm sitting on the front porch, watching these beautiful creatures: the only way I'm for hunting - the ONLY way - is to provide food for the table. Not for fur or animal products. We've wiped out too many of the species, and are turning the gun on our brothers and sisters: will we be the next to be eradicated? And besides: who decides who's overpopulating? Animals do what animals do ... a real conundrum. Excellent thought provoker, (((Pea))), as always.
I love these flow of ideas and thoughts that you can weave into such a beautiful piece of work. Your friend is right, over population of deer is the reason for hunting if it is controlled and as humane as possible. I was a hunter for many years and had no regrets but now each winter I have two or three that come out to my back yard and I leave apples for, one as you wondered did almost come up to take the apple out of my hand. I have also come across the carcasses of deer who die of long painful starvation deaths over harsh winters so is there an alternative...sadly no.
Yes, Phyllis. It could happen. If some guy with a gun
doesn't get there first. Suppose it was decided that
in order for us animals of the higher order were to
survive we'd have to be thinned out. Come to think of
it, that's why we invented war. -gene.
I'm in tears, I too have a problem with killing animals...I know all the reasons hunters use to go off and hunt. I'm married to one but I can't understand the need for this for it seems the hunter lives to hunt, what do the deer and other animals have, constantly being hunted.? That's no life but yet I see in our mountains beautiful deer, elk and antelope running free, feeding, playing, and they seem so unaware of the hunting season coming. Beautiful and touching poem. Love, Bonnie
Re-Release! No longer back-listed. Return to the Olde Ways. The hustle and bustle of modern day life has brought many of us to a quick fix attitude.This book is for those of you who are fed up; have looked at your life and your loved ones and realize
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Love Tinka
John
Seriously, culling animals appears to be necessary in most cases.
Dirty job which some people relish! Marksmen and Sunday hunters!
(((((HUGS))))) and love, Karla.
fee
doesn't get there first. Suppose it was decided that
in order for us animals of the higher order were to
survive we'd have to be thinned out. Come to think of
it, that's why we invented war. -gene.