The hunter slowly pases forward
Covered in orange
From head to toe
Watching the field like a hawk
Hoping to find a new friend
Within the forest of new begginnings.
His wondering eyes all smoky and grey
Peer out to the quiet still sea of green grasses
Searching for movement along the horizon.
As a fawn approaches fromt the bushes
And startles the hunter when he sees
The newborn frozen with fear.
But this hunter is different
Unlike any other.
He carries no gun.
And he carries no bow and now arrow.
But an apple in his right worn hand.
He places the beaming fruit down for the precious fawn
And slowly, silently, walks away.