Hunt

6 07 2012

A flash of white catches the eye.
A ripple of movement passes through the scrub.

Rising, drawing, aiming in one fluid movement,
Head turning, eyes tracking,
Release!

Barely breathing, daring not to hope,
The World blurs. All that exists is the arrow,
So slow, as it bridges the gap between hunter and prey.

A tidal rush of emotion fills the void;
Pride, elation… relief,
We eat today.

Just a little something I wrote yesterday evening when I was trying to get a few more pages of my novel knocked. Guess I got a little distracted, again.








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