(Hey guys. This is one of, in my opinion, my better pieces. Enjoy and I love feedback!)


At last, the hunters return from their travels

though they bring no spoils to share,

Carrying their spears propped against their

bent, burden-heavy backs

With a pack of mongrel mutts at their heels.

Against the cloudless, pale blue winter sky

drained of its usual luminosity,

Towering, rocky spires beckon to the

ensconced heavens above,

Surrounding the lively valley and village beneath.

Cottages are mere auburn speckles among the

endless blanket of snow.

Frozen, sparkling rivers criss-crossing to form

icy ponds where villagers joyously frolic.

Skeleton trees reach with slender, bony fingers,

but find nothing to grasp.

Coal-colored crows perched with beady eyes,

watching like silent guardians.

What dark secrets does this seemingly serene and

cheerful town conceal?

Only the winged watchers and crackling fires

dare whisper of such treacherous knowledge.

(Background Information: This is a visual response poem, which basically means that the poem vividly describes the painting Hunters in the Snow with figurative language while incorporating your own twist on what you think it represents. It is not supposed to rhyme.)