WINFIELD WORD WEAVING

The arid, peaceful ridge glows with early sunrise,

Wakes a stealthy Coyote, cunning and shy,

Paired up singing birds chase and speedily fly,

A lone Whitetail Buck carefully eyes,

The bountiful alpine meadow, under gradient blue skies,

The young and the old hunters, in camo, hide,

The mighty Bull Elk with chest thrust out, antlers held high,

An elusive creature, today’s desired prize,

With a determination of will, they won’t be denied,

The only question left is, is today the day the old Bull dies?

By David Winfield