Outdoor writing contest runner-up: When she falls

I know its right,

I’ve got the tags to cite

It’s allowed,

Under those hazy clouds

Yet my chest always aches

when her skin breaks.

– – –

I’ve been raised into this

And I’m not ashamed

Yet the ache of my heart when the safety clicks

The kickback of the rifle I’ve learned to fix

With all that I think of in the pale night

It makes me wonder if this is ‘right.’

– – –

Is her fawn all alone?

Or trailing a mother, seeking his own?

Does he wonder where she’s gone?

Or lay in pieces, cubs feeding until dawn.

There is no way to know,

Just like why the river flows.

But I choose to believe everything is how it should be

My memories created with a small fee.

– – –

I think of these animals, late at night

When the stars twinkle from my windowside.

Owls hoot as woodpeckers tap,

The sounds of nature, from here and back.

Wondering if that dear old fawn,

Can also see the path of Sagittaron.