While anticipations heightens,
On a clear, crisp autumn morn,
Others lay in soft slumber,
Awaiting the break of dawn.
Steam from coffee rises,
The air is wet with dew.
The rising sun and hum of wings,
Serves as a silent cue.
Triangle ears prick forward,
Muscles twitch and stand ready,
Nostrils flare, the scent entices,
But discipline holds steady.
From the reeds, a wild goose calls,
Serenity yields to beat the wings.
Flashes of lightning, claps if thunder,
Unnoticed to ears in which it rings.
Black, yellow, chocolate take to the air,
Then slice through the shimmering blue.
Their quarries-remote and obscure,
But for each the mark holds true.
Soft mouths deliver to hand,
Delicate prizes to be sure.
For them no greater pleasure,
Bred of desire simple and pure.