The Hunt Poem by celeste gardner
The Hunt
Sitting still
Careful not to make a move
Then a small movement catches my eye
I slowly pull up my gun
Pulling it to rest on my shoulder
I look through the scope and see my target
Taking a deep breath
I steady myself
Pulling the hammer back
I pull the trigger
Seeing a pile of black smoke
I look to see my target falling
The blood of life leaving it
A small smile leaves my face
My deer is down and dead
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4/26/2024 10:30:25 PM # 1.0.0.1119
