Autumn Dawn

A long highway
between rocky grey hills,
and a modest meadow
where black bulls graze.
Thorn bushes, weeds, brambles.
The earth is wet
with dewdrops,
and the poplar grove gilded,
toward the curve of the river.
Beyond the violet mountains
bursts the first light of day:
his shotgun over his shoulder,
between his lean greyhounds,
a hunter wends his way.