rising from the wild grass
covered in snow
it was there
perfectly still
the deer's breath visible as frost
in the morning air
the archer breathed in
held his breath
pulled back the string of the bow
aimed with superb precision
and released his shaft
the shot prey
struck through the heart
the bleeding red deer
kept running
losing more and more blood
from his maw
leaving tracks of crimson
in the snow behind
the archer lets his breath out
and rises
walking over to the dead red deer
he couldn't know
that the wound itself caused no pain
the arrowhead being profoundly sharp
pierced his body with perfect deadly aim
and as darkness prevails
the hart quivers a final time
as the silent forest weeps
with one of its children
no longer
within her confines
