As I walk the mountain ridge in awe of the view.
I witness the rising sun sparkle off the morning dew.
A deep breath fills my lungs with the cool crisp morning air.
As a bead of sweat slowly drips from my hair.
I march up and down all through this trecherous land.
All the while my bow is firmly gripped in my hand.
"Snap" as a tree branch breaks beneath my feet.
I must be quiet for we are soon to meet.
The bulls musky scent still lingers in the air.
With being so close there's no time to spare.
I crouch beside a fallen tree and begin to call.
I know within myself he soon will fall.
With each step grow bigger his tines.
As I tell myself I must make him mine.
He makes his approach without making a sound.
I'm engulfed with fear that he hears my heart pound.
I aim with my heart my aim is true.
With my bow in fill draw my arrow then flew.
The bull vanishes with a quick flash of brown.
No doubt with my perfectly placed shot he soon will be down.
I find my bull in a thicket down as he lay.
This perfect place in time I forever want to stay.
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