The Quarry

I had been stalking my quarry for three days now and I felt I was very near to him

He was a very cunning adversary so I had to use all my guile to find him

It was in the last quarter of the full moon on a misty early morning in December

When I saw him, I had followed his tracks to a clearing in the wood

There he stood, proud, his antlers glistening with the morning’s dew

He looked straight at me and I wondered what was in his mind

Did he think I was the intruder? I waited very still not to scare him

I prepared to shoot; I could see him in my sights my finger was on the trigger

The light was poor, but I thought I could somehow use that to help my shot

I steadied myself; he raised his head in a proud movement and looked away from me as if in defiance 
I slowly raised my camera and took my shot.