Beast In The Tall Grass Poem by Allen Steble The Philosophical Poet

he walks slowly through the tall brown grass
rubbing the stems with a quiet hush
a gentle breaze whistles over the evening plain
a beast walks with the motion of the tall brown grass, slowly..
his shoulders creep up and down like a seesaw
paws thump the dry ground beneath quietly..thump..thump
thumping to the tune of a steady heartbeat.bom, bom..bom, bom
silence encases the open field of frightened stag
the herd stops as if a rifle had been fired, BANG
but not a sound is heard over the persisting silence

to the left, red ground meets the orange sky
to the right, pale red ground meets the low mountains
in front, the red ground and orange sky fades to dark purple
the bewildered herd look behind with a swift turn of head
watching as the tall brown grass bends to the soft wind
Hushhh... the gentle breaze whistles over the evening plain
thump, thump, the beast walks with the motion of the soft wind, quietly
his shoulders creep up and down like a seesaw
paws thump the dry ground beneath quietly..thump..thump
thumping to the tune of a steady clock..tick..tick
a still fear engulfs the open field of anxious stag
but not a sound is heard over the persisting evening quiet

the herd wait quietly, minutes pass like a rushing wind
then the soft breaze dies, dies with a long shrill hiss..
the tall brown grass becomes endlessly taller as it straightens
'BANG' the noise explodes through the air like dynamite
a male stag falls to the ground helplessly
the frightened herd shoot off as quick as the fired bullet
forward to where the low mountains meet the orange sky
the beast walks toward his victim and drags him away
away to the tall brown grass that stands equal with him
like the soft wind he dissapears with a quiet hush..
into the tall brown grass that bends with the whistling wind..
he dissapears...hushhh...