The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top Blood -- blood and torn grass -- Had marked the rise of his agony -- This lone hunter. The grey-green woods impassive Had watched the threshing of his limbs. A canoe with flashing paddle, A girl with soft searching eyes, A call: "John!" . . . . . . . . . . . . Come, arise, hunter! Can you not hear? The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 6. SUNSET IN THE TROPICS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON PLANKED WHITEFISH by CARL SANDBURG YOUNG BULLFROGS by CARL SANDBURG GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: OVER THE MACKINAC by KAREN SWENSON SURFACE AND STRUCTURE: BONAVENTURE HOTEL, LOS ANGELES by KAREN SWENSON |