The Lure of the Chase
The lure of the chase
crisp fresh autumnal morn
Ah, for a hunt like this man was born
Dogs point their ears
bugles’ blares cut through the air
Leaves crackle underfoot
the prey in their scents, almost there
The first volley of gunpowder’s heard
From the front issue forth triumphant words
midst swirls and eddies of blood ~ a life not spared
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