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Hunting
October 21, 2024
The engine of my fourwheeler hums to life
I pack my stuff and grab my knife
I grab bow my and some extra arrows
Im getting a headache from these stupid sparrows
I hit the gas heading the woods
my ears are cold so I put on my hood
I climb in my stand not making a sound
I turn my head looking all around
I see white all on the ground
my face is numb from the snow
I hear a crack
I grab my bow
I see a deer its rack big and tall
I can just imagine watching it fall
with the draw of my bow I hold my breathe
the deer stares at me not knowing its staring right at death.
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This is just a little poem about hunting.