The Hunter

Time slows; the seconds like molasses,
He draws near once more,
As he did once before,
When he took her from me.

I feel his presence though I see him not,
The chill around the heart,
The catch of breath,
Close; but not enough to claim me yet.

I await his touch, without fear,
But he looks o’er my shoulder no more,
The heart warms, breath eases,
The clock ticks in time again.

But I seek him out and follow his trail,
His scent familiar to me now,
Endlessly searching for the battle I cannot win;
The hunter become the hunted.