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Along For the Hunt
Hunting will be here long past my time,
And long before my time, as well.
My senses stimulate my mind,
The quiet or maybe fresh smell.
Sometimes stifling and muggy,
Or it’s cold and wet.
Not a single deer yet,
My mind tired and foggy.
Running off caffeine and snickers.
Tracking down their movements,
Finding all their patterns,
But still no sign of life.
It doesn’t matter to me, either way,
I’m along for the hunt.
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