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

Hope you’re having a good week, if interested please consider a pound in the pot.

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