Dear,

  The hum and and rattle and swinging of the trees began this morning

                         and made her shiver to the whispers of nature to her children that hindered her,

                         sweet-scented wood filled the summer’s breeze.

                         From there eyes blinking to the sun’s rays she could count

                         the distant Mountain range that would never be seen again to the naked eye

                         of mortals. As gun shots rang out above to whispers, and nothing happend

                         to the sun’s love towards the Earth’s surface. She moved towards the sound of

                         man. To the hollow screams of the hunters. The screams crept closer to her

                         camp ground and engulfed her curiosity as if to prove in all reality she was truly

                         human in her prisoners cell. Then she saw it, scampering through the whispers,

                         through the head trauma of this world. The deer half appeared through the brush

                         but half as if to keep. Her smiled filled the depths of her face.Outstretched her     

                         her hand glided to the sky. Next, her rueful cry sang out to the heavens. The life

                         came spilling from her breast the filled the sky with crimson tears. The screams

                         of the men and the metallic ting of the guns falling surrounded her. The sky

                         began crying as the darkness closed her eyes to the world. They bent and

                         listened. Nothing pinged to them. They ran. No more to bring to thanksgiving, no

                         more recieved words to her ears. Were cold lips kiss the cheeks of angels

                         and nature rules the unknown.