She who hunts

She who hunts
Who challenges her sight
A rummager of leafy glades
A canvasser of light
A prying nosy blighter
Who ransacks and who aims
Her rifle through the mass of trees
Or this is what she claims

In pursuit of beauty
Of elegance of charm
Seeking searching the huntress
Who tries to remain calm
Blatant and vainglorious
Head down swagger strut
Aim that rifle pull that trigger
Feel it in one’s gut

A polite regard for Nature
And little respect for those
Fallow deer a grazing
On weeds between their toes
A stillness un regarded
A trance like melody
disturbed and
Expressionless
So reposeful actually

Motionless she lays still
Camouflaged is she
Her trousers and her coat and hat
Is just where it should be
The rarity of emptiness
The tenuous the fine
The softness of fluidity
Her euphoria down the line
Life in all it’s miracles
Animated pain
A vital spark is shot away
To generate again
A transientness it startles
This be her dying day
The netherworld it cometh
Condemned how she must pay

Matronly she bows her head
And breathes her final sigh
A little blood runs down her flanks
She is prepared to die
Twitching fast and furious
As she writhes there on the ground
With her ululating songs of woe
In her own blood, she’s drowned

The huntress feels excitement
A sexual heat as well
The rear legs are now kicking
Galloping towards hell
The hindrance of the moment
The sucking in of air
The perspiration of the brow
And that look of despair

Hovering there a moment
Embarrassed by it she
Watches the wild animal
That recently ran free
With all the manoeuvrability
It’s compliance to the cause
Punctilious and responsible
Till impact when it did pause

Forever