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.
The Chatter Of A Death-demon From A Tree-top
Stephen Crane
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Poem topics: girl, green, grass, rise, hear, soft, death, tree, I love you, I miss you, hunter, demon, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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