A Mordacious Wind
The wizened hunter had but one cartridge
remaining this was no trifle matter.
For he’d been attacked by a hungry horde
of rats when he took shelter in this cave.
And now a mordacious wind was morphing
into a severe storm and he was scared.
Yet he had to layover until dawn
for the blizzard’s wrath had imprisoned him.
The mere thought of his starving family
elicited nightmares and pangs of guilt.
For he felt shackled to this loathsome cave
unable to hunt and provide them food.
Setting the horizon afire Sol rose
as dawn's first light pierced the black of night.
And with one shot starvation was diverted
for a buck stood dead center in his sights.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2017
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