This Poem was Submitted By: Drenda D. Cooper On Date: 2003-12-17 17:40:42 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The Blizzard (A Story Poem)

He hunted alone and only with bow and arrow. In his haste this day he had not waited for the latest on the weather. With light feather steps he followed fresh deer tracks deep into the snowy wood; then stopped abruptly, hearing a crackle pierce the silence. In a clearing just ahead it stood. Motionless, behind a tree the hunter barely breathed lest the white-tail buck sense his presence. Time seemed suspended as the hunter's arrow flew. In that same instant the deer knew and with a graceful arch leapt across a fallen birch. He bled a crimson trail that led the hunter on his final chase. A trail that quickly disappeared beneath a cold white sheet of  blinding blizzard  that numbed the hunter's heart and froze his feet. The white-tail buck some way ahead heaved his final sigh, then found peace; buried soon beneath a mound of ice. Hopelessly lost in dense forest, the exhausted hunter numbly stumbled on. His last thoughts likely  were of warmth, of hearth, and loved ones at home. Next day a ranger happening upon the hunter knelt to get a closer look. He felt a sudden shiver as he peered into that stony face; then noted on the hunter's back his quiver still in place. The ranger later would recount the tale of how he found that day two frozen forms; first the hunter, then, a mere ten yards away  lay his white-tail prey.

Copyright © December 2003 Drenda D. Cooper

Additional Notes:
Sorry, folks, I guess snow has just been on my mind lately..........


This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2004-01-04 10:25:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
He hunted alone and only with bow and arrow. In his haste this day he had not waited for the latest on the weather. Good A o assonance in this lovely opening With light feather steps he followed fresh deer tracks and "f" alliteration here ...... His last thoughts likely were of warmth, of hearth, and loved ones at home. Yes...but thinks nothing of wanting to take such a beautiful life...good irony and excellent ending.


This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2003-12-27 09:36:29
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.95000
Dear Drenda, Please don't apologize for sharing this tale of man against nature. Your skill at spinning a tale in poetry form is evident here in this work. This story pulls me along to the finish with your skillful use of language. You use the tools of assonance, alliteration and soft rhyme in combination to lull the reader along. There is probably no way to mention all of the instances where you employ these tools, but just to name a few---alone/only, bow/arrow, haste/waited/latest, weather/feather, snowy/wood, barely/breathed and you use fricative "f" for that soft whispery feel in feather/followed/fresh. Then we have time/seemed/suspended, blinding/blizzard, hunter's/heart, froze/feet, ahead/heaved, final/sigh, peace/beneath, numbly stumbled, warmth/hearth, sudden/shiver, shiver/quiver, frozen/forms, away/lay/prey. This is one of my favorite parts, because it is poeticly suspenseful: "With light feather steps he followed fresh deer tracks deep into the snowy wood; then stopped abruptly, hearing a crackle pierce the silence." Honestly Drenda, I am in awe of the way you can weave a story such as this, keeping the reader's interest so keenly, while using a minimum amount of words to do it. This is a feat not many can claim, but you can. And while man may have won out over the deer in a fleeting moment, he definately lost the battle against nature in the form of a blizzard. Thanks for this entertaining bounty of imagry and sound to delight our poetic palate. Blessings, Jennifer
This Poem was Critiqued By: Sherri L Smith On Date: 2003-12-19 10:07:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.60000
Dear Drenda, This is a haunting tale and put so aptly and visually into poem form. I can see the hunter, oblivious to what is around him, going after his prey. I can see the snow first falling gently, (as it is here today) then coming down in blinding snow blankets. This is a good comparison to some of us humans that work to attain a goal only to lose our soul for it. Good reminder, great visual poetry! Happy Holidays Sherri
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2003-12-18 18:25:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.66667
Hi Drenda, I just love this poem and believe I am also writing a story poem! This is a great story and one that I believe could be true. My husband and I hunted big game...well he hunted I just went with him because he always wanted me to. I could scarcely stand to see an animal die but we always took the meat, prepared it and fed our family..probably more healthy then as there is no fat. We lived in Rawlins Wy and your descriptions of the hunter, the prey, and the blizzard easily took me back to the mountains where we hunted. The blizzards and even just a routine snow storm could be horrible in that area. So much snow, cold, and the ever present wind. Your writing ability comes through loud and clear in this story...it is so well written and kept me on edge througout as I had a feeling it was not going to have a happy ending. It is a compelling read and one that I enjoyed very much! Blessings...Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2003-12-18 13:52:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Drenda: I've long believed we need more narrative poetry and you have not only given us that form but delivered a tale with an aphorism and one that's beautifully written. I have marked all the allits, assonance, internal and end rhymes, and my printed copy is covered with my marks. "He hunted alone and only with bow and arrow. In his haste this day he had not waited for the latest on the weather." The sinister possibilities of hunting alone with bow and arrow hook the reader with the first two lines. A precurser for disaster is his not waiting to hear a weather report. This is deftly delivered with the assonance in alone/only/bow/arrow and waited/haste/latest/day. "With light feather steps .....weather/feather.... he followed fresh deer tracks deep into the snowy wood; then stopped abruptly, hearing a crackle pierce the silence. In a clearing just ahead it stood. Motionless, behind a tree the hunter barely breathed lest the white-tail buck sense his presence." Just the rhymes alone make this so enjoyable: tracks/crackle and wood/stood and hearing/clearing and the assonance of silence/sense/presence and several more. There are too many poetics to point to each but the allits in feather/followed/ fresh and behind/barely/breathed/buck deserve a mention. Your pace is perfect; from the first line you have the reader racing to see what occurs next. This is simply magnificent, Drenda. My, how you tell a tale! "Time seemed suspended as the hunter's arrow flew. In that same instant the deer knew and with a graceful arch leapt across a fallen birch. He bled a crimson trail that led the hunter on his final chase." You enhance the fricative sound with three more F words and the rhymes of flew/knew and the slant graceful/chase. Yet my favorite sounds here are the arch/birch combo. The reader wonders "what does final chase mean?" I was so happy when the deer "knew" and leapt away but the crimson trail dispels any hope for its survival. You describe this action scene very effectively and I found I was holding my breath. "A trail that quickly disappeared beneath a cold white sheet of blinding blizzard that (chilled) the hunter's heart and froze his feet." Great metaphor of of cold white sheet for the blizzard. (Nice allits with blinding/ blizzard/beneath). I changed the word "numbed" because you use it later more efficaciously. Your frication continues in line four and your rhyme of sheet/feet charms the ear of the "sound-is-all" Mell Morris. Your next two stanzas delineate the deer's demise in tender words (thank you) and that of the hunter who you imagine thinks of his home and loved one's in his last moments. In your 5th stanza "numbly stumbled" works well. Stanza 6 you narrate the ranger's finding of the hunter's body, his shiver and the quiver still on the frozen hunter. "The ranger later would recount the tale of how he found that day two frozen forms; first the hunter, then, a mere ten yards away lay his white-tail prey." Your alliterative frication continues till the end and is joyful to my ears even with the sad resolution of the narration. Plus four rhymes in one stanza: day/lay/away/prey. I think the moral here is "be prepared" as the boy scouts say; venturing out alone in snow country is dangerous. More importantly, if a man kills, he may pay a high price. Now, you don't tell us if the hunter stalked his prey to feed his family or if it were for the sport...and I'm glad you did not reveal this fact. For as is, the reader decides for himself how he feels about the tragedy. Not to forget the irony in the end of the tale which is likely its most memorable feature: the hunter dies just ten yards away from his prey. I've been telling you for the past year that your poetry has reached higher and higher levels and "The Blizzard" is another example of same. I could teach an English class about all figures of speech and the devices poets use by means of this one poem. You have outdone even yourself in this marvelous tale. Brava and standing ovation! Mell
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2003-12-18 06:57:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.78571
Wow....deep and intense and so right on......a hunter in many cases will do exactly what is written above .....I know, I hunted when I was younger and married to Steve. Those cold, snow filled days I should have stayed in bed for those 'pushes' among the men were at times hard to take......nice structure, great word flow, images my dear you have put the reader in the middle of the scene and allowed him or her the pleasure of seeing the deer, watching the hunter pull back on his bow and arrow and hear the whisper ofwind as it sailed through the air at the doe.....white tail deer, beautiful alone in sight let alone in flight. How sad though to lose both to the atmosphere and so close together.........again, your story/poem is created and put forth in short book form as well so perhaps you might want to give that a thought too....pictures along with the story would present a 'watch out' to some hunters. I hunted with rifle and was shot at once by an inexperienced young man........he just wanted that dam deer......almost made me stay ome the next time out.......thanks for posting and sharing.....be safe, enjoy the holiday and if you are in a place where snow falls in great amounts then you must be in New England...hehehe....yesterday and today though rain is still in the forecast and most of the snow will just melt away. God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jordan Brendez Bandojo On Date: 2003-12-18 00:56:49
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Drenda, This story poem appears to me as a signal to a possible mishap during a snow. To me, this is like a caution to remind one to be careful enough during the snowfall. You have been recounting about snow this days and I just have the chance to experience it almost physically. I am wondering how it is to be in a place where snow is falling. Anyways... The narrative way of telling the story in a poem satisfied me but the ending is quite mournful. The presentation and all the elements of a good story are reinforced effectively. The character which is the hunter (the protagonist) is put to a tragic scene. How I wish he was rescued by the ranger! SMILE! I just could not help but sympathize on the life of the hunter. It is very sad! He was hunting for food but he was in the end made food by the bliazzard. It is sad to note that this hunter was very aggressive to hunt food just to keep her family alive. Hopelessly lost in dense forest, the exhausted hunter numbly stumbled on. His last thoughts likely were of warmth, of hearth, and loved ones at home. ---so poignant that my eyes are almost tearing. I am thinking of this hunter was my father and he was looking for food for to feed us. Though, my father is a farmer and hunting is not his work, I can still feel the story is just the same to my father. My father is still till cultivating our land to support my 4 younger brothers and 1 sister in their custody. I am living far away from them. I am working here in a faraway city as a professional and I am helping my parents for support. I can remember the days when I was till studying, I am almost crying visualizing my father working industriously under the sun without minding the prickly heat. I'm sorry, I was drawn to also recount the sad familial story I have! I just feel telling it to you. I just feel at home to tell you. So much for that! As I said you have carried out all the elements of the story. The setting is vividly visualized. The lessons are left for the readers to interpret. Thank you so much Drenda. This really appears very significant to me as I am remembering my father! God bless. Please, take care. Jordan
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2003-12-17 23:18:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Drenda: Your narrative poem is a great treat to me after an absence from the link. It is ambitious - and I had the feeling while reading it that it 'wrote' itself, with your aid. It felt, I think, like a story waiting in your subconscious - rather like an archetype, I think. The story of the hunter and the hunted is not a new theme, but there is a unique quality to this one which very much appeals to me - gives me deeply felt 'shivers' of my own. As does all of your poetry, this one affects me as a 'soulful' work - and in it you allow us to view the hunter, the white-tail buck, and ourselves. I experienced this poem as an allegory for life. This archer is focused on a specific direction with clarity and single-mindedness, but still, loses his way (becomes blind) and dies in the end. Is this not the fate of each of us, in one sense? He hunted "alone and only" --wonderful assonance here with bow and arrow. In his "haste this day" he had -- and here not "waited for the latest" -- and here! on the weather. As we experience life as individuals, we are truly alone, at least in one sense. We move ahead or through time without waiting for the "latest on the weather" as well, for we, too, must experience the hazards of life on earth, whether we must hunt for our food, like the protagonist in this story, or seek to understand the meaning (weather) of our experience. With light feather steps he followed fresh deer tracks deep into the snowy wood; then stopped abruptly, hearing a crackle pierce the silence. The rhyme of "weather/feather" is thrilling, as are the soft fricatives in "feather/fresh" -- so suggestive of the soft element of snow. I love the sounds within "light/silence." I've always thought of snow as a sign of purity and cleansing. It can also represent blocked or frozen emotions - as you develop the poem, the hunter's "frozen heart" takes on greater meaning. Perhaps there is a purification suggested by his death. In a clearing just ahead it stood. Motionless, behind a tree the hunter barely breathed lest the white-tail buck sense his presence. There is a sense of awe, of wonder, which intensifies with each line. We hold our breath with the hunter. Again, I am enthralled with the sonics you've used throughout - for example in "sense/presence." There is a reminder here, I think, that in a sense we are "volunteers" as was the deer. This makes him no less magnificent - more so, I think. Though in one sense he is defenseless, he remains majestic and powerful, as it is he who leads the hunter. Time seemed suspended as the hunter's arrow flew. In that same instant the deer knew and with a graceful arch leapt across a fallen birch. He bled a crimson trail that led the hunter on his final chase. A "fallen birch" suggests to me a failing of spiritual development. The deer "leapt across" this - and I can't help but draw a Christian analogy - as we read that the Christ bled for humanity, and led as a way-shower. You gave me as a reader a sense of suspended time, as well. I sensed a strong unity between hunter and hunted, as if each were part of the same consciousness. "In that same instant the deer/knew" described a kind of affinity that cannot be portrayed in another way, in my opinion. The connection between these two beings is a holy one. "graceful" speaks to me of grace. The sounds within "arch" and "birch" are reminiscent for this reader of Robert Frost's "Birches" - also possibly because the poem, while different in style, conveys a sense of personal and impersonal destiny as "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening" did for me. A trail that quickly disappeared beneath a cold white sheet of blinding blizzard that numbed the hunter's heart and froze his feet. Of course above I think of the body underneath "a cold white sheet" in death, as in a hospital. What was the quality of the blizzard that "numbed the hunter's heart" as well as freezing his feet? Is it the quality of the experience of life on earth - the spirit being numbed by encasement in matter so that divine origins are forgotten? Above, I wanted to see "that" in another place than at the end of line, but I have no suggestions. I am loathe to tamper with this piece, as its lyricism speaks to me eloquently as it is written. The blizzard is both "blinding" and numbs the hunter's heart. It evokes for this reader, at least, the temporary blindness experienced while in the body. The white-tail buck some way ahead heaved his final sigh, then found peace; buried soon beneath a mound of ice. In dreams, ice can symbolize frozen emotions. The buck achieves a kind of immortality in this poem. As we read, he dies. As we begin to read again, he is still heading away from the hunter, leading the way with a "crimson trail" and ultimately finding peace. We can cycle through the poem again and again - and yet, it doesn't end. The deer and the hunter have become a part of my consciousness. The deer "buried" beneath the "mound of ice" is like the living spirit of us, "buried" in temporal life, in materiality, in frozen actions and emotions. We will achieve peace, too, I believe strongly. Everything about this poem suggests a cycle which does not end with the death of the deer or the hunter, nor with the discovery by the ranger nor with his recounting. Hopelessly lost in dense forest, the exhausted hunter numbly stumbled on. -- WONDERFUL! His last thoughts likely were of warmth, of hearth, and loved ones at home. Next day a ranger happening upon the hunter knelt to get a closer look. He felt a sudden shiver as he peered into that stony face; then noted on the hunter's back his quiver still in place. The ranger later would recount the tale of how he found that day two frozen forms; first the hunter, then, a mere ten yards away lay his white-tail prey. And we are the listeners. And the hunter, and the Deer. And the ranger, recounting. The suggestion is that the hunter achieved a kind of immortality in his frozen state, "quiver still in place." I can't help but associate this image with my belief that our stillness in death is a temporary state, followed by the beginning of our 'true' life. Forgive me for projecting my own images and interpretations on your work. It is deeply affecting, and I feel that it will resonate with me for some time to come. Drenda, thank you for this incredibly layered work. I do not feel that I have done it justice in my comments, but must leave my remarks "as is" for they are the response from my deeper self. All my best, Joanne
This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2003-12-17 18:10:04
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.00000
Guess the hunter shouldn't have gone out unprepared. You could have put in how the carcass of the deer was being eaten by carion or wolves. A little more gruesome but more factual. You have a good story line here, easy to read. Very descriptive indeed. The Indians, when faced with a situation like that, used to gut the animal and climb inside for warmth until the storm passed. Not a Christmas story but very interesting. I really wonder if you need that line about being a story poem...that's quite obvious.thanks for posting.
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