Our group was every man for himself,
The five of us, running, jumping, searching
Stealthily moving under the brush,
the cowboys sit unexpectedly around
their fire,
the fire trying hard to light up the
evening sky
as it crackles and spews out embers.
We lurk in the shadows the fire has given us
Like invisible spirits amongst the trees.
Big brother blows the whistle;
running in from all sides,
we've got them surrounded;
the amateur cowboys in their dad's overalls and straw hats,
are stunned by our covert operation,
terrified by our berry face paint,
and frozen in fright by our bow and arrows;
we have won, and they are our captives
until supper.