Parting Shot: They Fly Above…

By Jelly Cocanougher

A cold, still rain missed us by a few miles as the tomahawk in the ground parts the storm around us. Circulating in the skies are big doughy clouds. Cool brushes of wind cascade smoke from the finely welded open flame and light starts to peak through from the sunset. Dove wrapped in bacon are next to other fine meats, hunters overlooking with hungry eyes. This hunter’s extravaganza runs into the night, as they dance to moonlight music with full hearts and bellies.