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The Hunt
April 21, 2016
The night was cold and the snow was a glow
The snow was a light from the moon’s blue light
I walked gently with my bow and arrow
The woods were thick and closed around so tight.
The sickening fog closed in around me
The fog so sickly I could not bear it
And shadows quickly danced from tree to tree
I’d catch a glimpse of one, and it would hit.
There’s a shadow here and a shadow there
They jump and glide, and twist and hide with pride
They run and hide from here and every where
Their jumps and twists all have a steady stride.
A sound broke through the fog with a loud grunt
Shooting pain in my head, ended the hunt.
© Thomas W., Scituate, MA
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