The neck was pulsing
Blood, pumping,red, a fountain against the green of the grass.
The eye was looking around in panic .
Before stopping on the boy.
He just stood there
Frightened into shock
Staring at the beast
It’s large muscles trembling
It’s left front leg
Hanging from the skin,split in the middle
Like the string from a snapped bow and arrow
Like so many sticks the boy used to break over knee
He’d heard the shot while exploring the woods.A single boom…the percussion shaking the earth,wildlife scattering,coyotes bellowing in the distance…
He came running — only slowing when he saw the horse…laying there in the open…tied to a tree.Leg,split…and a fountain of blood from the gun shot …pumping with every heart beat….
This will be his first encounter with death.