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The Game
I remember,
rising before the sun
to conjoin with nature—
Immersed in layers of clothing,
Hot Hands in my pockets.
Looking forward
to the silent day ahead
with my dad,
we enjoyed the twisting ride
through the backcountry.
Some odd miles
and a few Tim McGraw songs later,
We pulled off the crunchy gravel
to unpack the truck
and find our sweet spot.
He carried the bow,
I carried the snacks.
That was the day
we were going to get the “biggin.”
And we waited.
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