After the kill, there is the feast.
And toward the end, when the dancing subsides
and the young have sneaked off somewhere,
the hounds, drunk on the blood of the hares,
begin to talk of how soft
were their pelts, how graceful their leaps,
how lovely their scared, gentle eyes.
| Best Poems | Short Poems
Email Poem |
Top Lisel Mueller Poems
Analysis and Comments on Small Poem About The Hounds And The Hares
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Small Poem About The Hounds And The Hares here.
Commenting has been disabled for now.