The Hunt

Breathe!
I must still
this pounding;
quiet my nerves,
think.

Days light fades –
time is running out
movements need be
precise, swift,
silent

No room for error
as I navigate
this rocky path
cling to
shadows

I salivate,
the taste of
salty flesh
teasing tongue
obsessed

Joy of stalking.

(Written for Deb Whittam’s 50 Word Thursday prompt.  Image courtesy of Deb.  Visit Twenty Four to participate.)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

6 thoughts on “The Hunt

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