The Hunt

Chest tight

Hot on the heels

Of the prize

Elusive and unguarded

Leaving only tracks

Broken leaves or marked trees

The scent and sight of a dream

As much a sight

From the hunter’s belly

The nose for achievement

Bridging the distance

Of it in sight

And caught

To savour and hold

And make us whole.

By J.W.H. Hobbs.

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