A little after dusk on a clear night,
the men started to arrive
on the ridge above the covered bridge
with their favorite hounds.
After everyone had arrived,
the hounds were loosed,
and we started waiting,
talking softly and listening.
Someone passed around
some White Lightning
“to ward off the chill” while
we chatted about the weather,
when the moon would rise,
and which hound would be
first to find a scent.
Then Old Blue tuned up. Next
Al’s pair added their voices and
the pack was off and running.
Listening for a bit, Ike said,
“It’s a red fox this time.
He’ll give them a good chase
before he goes to ground.”
Then on that still night under
the rising moon, we were treated
to the sweet music of the hounds,
blending their voices in a lovely chorus,
as they ran the fox below the ridge.


© by Bob Kimberly.
Used with the author's permission.