went out into the woods
without their guns
to sit quietly on stumps
and wait for the deer
or the doves or the elk
to pass by or come near
and not even to take
their picture but just
to see them there
and what if the poem
was a deer would you
still hunt it and kill it
and eat it after all
we have to live
and the deer offer
themselves to us
the way the fields
and the woods are theirs
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