My breath spirals up

into the cold winter air.

Beside me, a chipmunk

hunts for buried nuts and acorns.

Dad taps my shoulder

and points to down the rock ledge

that we have situated ourselves on.

I slowly lower my head down and see it,

an eight point buck is grazing on a clover patch,

its brown body contrasts with the

light green foliage.

I grasp for the rifle at my feet

and aim the cross hairs behind the shoulder.

Everything slows down as

I

pull

the

trigger.

BOOM!

I lift my head from the scope

And squint through the gray,

settling smoke.

A smile appears on my face

as I see the deer’s upturned legs.

“Nice shot!”, Dad says.

My legs start to shake,

having difficulty

with holding up my excitement.

I wish that everybody

could feel the way I feel..