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.)