Bear Hunt - Poem by SABASTIAN MARTIN

The rising sun.
A long walk and grazing the seen
flatten grass we sit on.
The cups of water we drank
the many shells we hold.

Minutes go by we count the leaves that flow by
in a wink a bear strolls by
they burnt taste of gunpowder
the blood that poors on us as,
we carry our prize and joy

A future of a battle that has been won.

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 11, 2008

Poem Edited: Saturday, October 11, 2008

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