House Hunting
Out on the prowl through the concrete jungle,
a local guide discerning the tracks, seeking signs,
life located, we close in, target in our sights.
Fire! A miss, the prey bounds away,
the hunt begins anew.
Target after target is found, few worth the effort,
even taking aim seems a waste, we leave them be.
Another shot, another miss, another shot, miss,
desperation begins to set in.
Judgement clouded by hunger.
Dejected, leaving the jungle empty handed,
brush comes to life, bounding in front of us,
perfect shot. Steady aim, as quick as it began,
it is over.
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