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Deer Season

 

Walking down a forest trail
Hazy light filters through trees.
Footsteps muted be morning dew
Musky wooden smells abound.

 

Squirrels play among the branches
Chattering loudly to each other.
Birds flit from tree to tree
Scurrying about greeting the day.

 

Setting down on an old stump
I shiver from the cold.
Listening to every sound,
Each twig snap and rustle of bush.

 

Patiently I wait for the moment
To be rewarded for my diligence.
Hoping for at least a glance
Of Gods creatures great and small.

 

In the distance I hear the baying
of the hounds giving chase.
Then see the graceful gait
As deer approach my stand.

 

My blood boils from the rush
Buck fever grips my soul
Raising my rifle I take aim
And hear the the thundering report.

 

Later around the campfire we brag.
Of the day that has past.
Each having their own story
Of how successful was the hunt.

 

Pondering on the events of the day
A battle wages within my heart.
Love of nature, thrill of the kill,
My intrusion into natures realm.

© Randall J. Beers
October 10th 2001

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