The Hunter Is A Moving Boundary Poem by William He

The Hunter Is a Moving Boundary
By William He

Faded crimson—a drop of ink.
It bloats across the fallow field,
Where a single silhouette holds the frost.
Exhale the grit of mortal dust,
As the retina stutters and burns out,
The moor collapsing into veins of gray.
A thrum of blood defines the lens,
But who can map,
Where the stalker's territory takes root.
Watch the seam of light dissolve,
How vultures of shade circle and drift,
Coiling into the marrow like a darker spine.

Quietly reanimating hollow rooms,
But who becomes the quarry,
When logic fractures into salt.
Slicing through barb, through iron lines,
Through a labyrinth of rusted snares,
Before the gray matter turns to stone.
Interred deep: the stench of salt and lust,
Lunging for that shuddering gasp,
The bone-crack of a single shot.
Within the canvas,
Tracking what has not yet turned to smoke,
Fractured myths, half-rotted ghosts.

疏影 题米罗《加泰罗尼亚风景》(猎人）画
作者：何威廉

残红点墨。
见远郊旷野，
孤影寥寂。
暂别凡尘，
魔幻初消，
荒原渐入虚白。
生机漫写微躯小，
谁识得、
猎场开辟。
算绝奇、
逐影浮游，
化作梦魂全息。

轻绘平涂故地，
竟谁为野物，
荒诞逻辑。
戳破樊篱，
陷阱重重，
不让理心远隔。
深藏隐喻情和欲，
正待那、
一枪余力。
向画中、
试问初心，
半幻半真颜色。