bird flying A Christmas Poem

Beneath the shadowed skies of night
I slip around the pools of light
And stalk my wary prey
Quick and cautious steps I make
Yet careful not to overtake
Or give myself away
Red hot blood throbs through my vein
Faster than the midnight train
And nearly just as loud
If only they could see me now
My cool reserve, my firm-set brow
Oh, they would be so proud
Closer still I draw in calm
Cold steel pressed against my palm
My hand controlling fate
Now close enough to hear her breath
She does not know her pending death
And so I stand and wait
At last she stops and turns around
And stares at me without a sound
For she can flee no more
Trapped with nowhere else to run
She knows her final days are done
For I have killed before

Then suddenly she springs at me
In desperate hopes of being free
Blood flows forth like wine
But I am stronger, I prevail
Her head lies severed from her tail
And victory is mine
David never felt so tall
In causing giant men to fall
Dawn finds me alone
At dinnertime we make a feast
Of meat and bones from off the beast
Reducing her to bones
The season comes but once a year
And someone has to kill, it's clear
I'll volunteer again
For dealing death I feel no shame
Yes, next year I will do the same
To kill the Christmas hen

November 1990

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