The Wounded

February 28th, 2011 by Magdalena Tabor

He wanted to go to the country

Where the thing that loomed over him

Wouldn’t follow.

He didn’t suppose it could thrive

In the dead of Winter

With nothing to feed on.

The icy pond with the fish

Waiting below the surface

Belied its existence.

He would occupy his time

With other things,

Let his mind wander

Where his body would not let him,

Trace the crimson spots in the snow

To where the arrow struck its heart,

Piercing the wound to the bone.

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One Response to “The Wounded”

  1. seo services Says:

    I commented on your camo poem 2. This is nice as well. question: what is whadawethink ? oh I get it – never mind. good creation!

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