The Hunt
by Brooke KoenigFog slowly drifts in through the trees;
Patiently I sit there;
The ticking minutes passing by like so many hours.
The slight breeze stirs a few leaves beneath my stand.
A twig snaps off to the north;
And all instinct kicks into high alert.
And I wait. And listen. And wait.
Then I get a glimpse of him;
That majestic creature emerging from the thickening fog.
All 12 points, spread wide;
10 inch tines dripping with the moisture of the air;
Muscles rippling with each step.
He freezes, sniffs the air, my heart beats so loudly he must hear!!
For eternity neither of us moves.
Then he continues his pursuit;
His neck thickening as he catches an allure on the breeze.
Just a few yards more…
With a smooth, calculating motion, the arrow is drawn back.
I become the hardened killer.
I sight down the shaft;
Just behind the muscled shoulder I mark my spot.
As the arrow flies near unseen through the swirling fog;
I know he’s mine.
Editor’s Note: I had the pleasure of meeting young Miss Koenig at the Duck’s Unlimited sportsman’s show in Oshkosh, Wisconsin during August 2007. I would hope that her words of passion for the sport inspire other young hunters to get into the great outdoors.