My Laboured Breaths
The heavy set thump of white tailed deer
As they charge away across the streams wet clay
They caught in its tight slippy narrow confines
Their panic palpable
But short lived
As easy their powerful strides carry them up and away from me and the dogs’ agog
Dun red and the orange of this years bracken Oak leaves under foot
Their crinkle patterns as we slog by this glorious winter’s day
Promised for snow
Now sleety biting rain
Breathe you fool
Another day is the day for sorrows
Not today
My laboured breaths as I push uphill
