Composite

I heard the dogs, my father taught me to listen a hint of sound would come and go on the wind at first not sure, I leaned into silence, the dogs they were coming, Walkers, Blue Ticks, Redbone more moan that howl, baying, louder, fainter would they come my way along the oil line cut if they followed the slough or the pipe line this is where they crossed the sluggish water the river lay to my left, the slough behind me where else might the deer go, the pipe line burst from the woods a hundred yards away they were closer now, surer, the dogs sang they were louder like my heart, or was it me making this noise, no, closer still, roaring fast on the trail, close now, coming this way the gun, cold as December, rested in my hands I knew now the deer would come across the field the dogs made me tremble, I thought to breathe from the trees the deer was coming to me grace, crossing the field in leaps and bounds I raised the gun and tried to stop shaking frozen, no air around, the deer charged fifty yards, twenty, ten, swinging, leading no shot, no sound, leaping, he was gone